


When You Love Someone

by thegirlfromwonderland



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Feels, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, Oliver Queen Has PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-04-24 05:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlfromwonderland/pseuds/thegirlfromwonderland
Summary: When Oliver is attacked by an unknown source, Felicity will learn just how far she's willing to go to save the person she loves. But how could she do it when their worst enemy is not something she could destroy with a tablet and a wifi connection?They learn once again Oliver just can't run away from his past, no matter how hard he might try.





	1. Death And All His Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I changed the summary a bit so if this seems familiar, it's because of that.
> 
> WARNING:  
> This story contains some heavy subjects as in mental illnesses, depression and PTSD. I won't mention about the parts individually, so consider yourselves warned. I pull no punches.  
> I have been writing this since February, so I have a few chapters ready-ish. I don't have an update schedule, though, but I will do my best to edit them. My time is limited because I'm studying for my enterance exams for university at the moment, but they'll be over in a few weeks. I just want to publish this already.  
> I did a lot of research for this, you have no idea (not the first chapter, though, they're coming).
> 
> This escalated quickly.

Loud chatter filled the large ballroom, the sound echoing in the city hall's corridors. People were talking with each other, laughing, dancing, drinking, and celebrating together. Music in the background set the pace of several bodies on the dance floor, in pairs, moving against each other. A few young children were jumping up and down, hand in hand. Their parents were telling them to stop before someone got hurt, smiles on their faces nonetheless. The noises merged together, making it impossible to seperate a particular sound.

The delicious smell of the numerous appetizers had succeeded in luring a number of hungry guests around the waiters and waitresses strolling in the ballroom. Wines and a variety of expensive coctail drinks were being served to the city's elite, who were currently gathered around the man of the hour. Congratulations were said, handshakes took place, and smiles exchanged.

On the other side of the hall, Felicity made her way through the tall double doors in her silver, floor length gown. The garment was close-fitting, clinging to her upper body and highlighting her slender waist.  The skirt flared just under her bottom, showing just enought of her soft curves to be appropriate for a formal event like this, Oliver's re-election's after-party. Her back and shoulders were left bare which left Felicity feeling a little self-conscious. Her hair was in an updo with little braids on the side of her head, creating a little more detailed look which took _a long time_ to make, that's why she was late. She was wearing contact lenses for once, mainly because she felt like her glasses didn't quite fit her outfit.

She felt bad for leaving Oliver to begin the party on his own since Quentin was out of town on a business meeting for another week, he had been left all alone to get this thing started, but she hadn't been too keen on coming with a half done hairstyle and without any makeup. Gladly Oliver understood, being a good, supportive husband and all that.

Oliver was just elected to continue as the mayor of Star City and of course there had to be a big party. He was a Queen after all, and The Queens' parties were known to be big. Apparently it didn't matter that only half of the Queens were alive or that the two remaining siblings weren't that much into partying anymore, the mayor's office had wanted to celebrate this event like Moira and Robert would've, or even Oliver back in 2007. Felicity knew Oliver prefers small-scaled parties these days but this was nothing he couldn't handle.

Once she reached the main area, her eyes spotted a sign saying 'Mr. and Mrs. Queen' in big, bold letters. She did a double take on that, trying to figure out if they simply didn't realize she kept her own name after marrying Oliver, or if they just didn't care. Anyhow, she couldn't deny the fact that she kinda liked the sound of it, _Felicity Queen_ , even when she reminded herself why she didn't change it in the first place. She wanted to be known as her own person, not only as Oliver Queen slash the mayor's wife. And of course Oliver understood. Stupid, supportive husband indeed.

She eyed the massive crowd in front of her, searching for Oliver, who she hadn't seen all night. He must be stressed with all these people wanting his attention, swarming around him, talking to him with no pauses whatsoever. He's good at hiding his discomfort, though, which is why the public probably thinks he's all whole and healed after the five-years-on-a-supposely-deserted-island thing. Or that's the story they've heard. But Felicity knew better.

"Good evening, Mrs. Queen.", the chief of SCPD greeted her at the door with a smile on his face. Felicity cringed internally at the use of 'Queen', because he made it sound like he was talking to Moira, but decided not to correct him.

The man was a nice guy, married with three kids. He had just started an anti-vigilante campaign last week. Felicity smiled. "Mr. Freeman", she nodded.

"Not bored, are you? You looked deep in thought.", he said amusingly.

Felicity chuckled out of habit. "No, I was just looking for my husband. Have you seen Oliver by any chance?"

Mr. Freeman turned to glance behind him. "I believe  Mr. Queen is entertaining his guests in the ballroom just now. Big place, isn't it?"

"Yes", Felicity smiled, "I'm feeling kinda turned around in here, to be honest. I'm not used to hanging out in the city hall."

"Understandable", he nodded, "Me neither." They both chuckled.

She grabbed a glass of red wine off the tray one of the waiters was holding just as she spotted Oliver on the other side of the room, surrounded by people. No surprises there.  


"Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to keep company to that husband of mine. I think I'm supposed to be there anyway, by his side."  she said easily with a little nod at his direction, a little shaken by the fact how much she's starting to sound like Moira. Maybe the name comes with responsibility. Mr. Freeman wished her a pleasant evening, and soon Felicity was by herself again.

She made her way towards Oliver, zigzaging between the people, somehow evading all the flailing limbs, trying not to spill her wine on anyone. It  was hard to breathe in a crowd like this, with so many people in the same spot, so Felicity detoured around the upcoming mass of bodies dancing a little more wildly than the last one. Yeah, alcohol didn't sit well with these people.

Then Oliver turned right at her, as if he knew exactly where she was the whole time. Maybe he did, she wouldn't be surprised. Their eyes locked, something deep showing in his eyes before Felicity lip-read an 'excuse me'. Oliver started strolling slowly towards her, and somehow the noisy crowd didn't bother her that much anymore. He didn't move her eyes away from hers, even when someone tried to speak to him. She felt enormous smile forming on her face as she saw his eyes roam over her body, and then come back up, now darkened. Yep, there was the reason why she chose this dress for tonight.

His mouth curved in a grin, matching hers, as they walked.

She brought the glass to her lips and took a sip, pleased to see his eyes follow the movement. Oliver tilted his head to the side in a playful way, knowing exactly what she was trying to do. But two could apparently play that game, Felicity noticed, as he opened the two highest buttons on the collar of his dress shirt. There were only a few feet between them so she could clearly see the fatigue shadowing his face, though, but luckily she knew a trick or two to make it go away for a while.

Suddenly a loud shot rang out in the ballroom, causing everyone to quiet down for a few seconds, before a high-pitched scream echoed in the hall. 

Felicity watched as Oliver's expression changed from soft and playful to shock. He came to a halt, staggering on his feet for a while before stilling again. She opened her mouth to call for him when he parted his lips ever so slightly, and coughed. 

Blood.

Felicity's feet felt glued to the floor. Someone let out another ear-splitting shriek, making her cringe, followed by a number of other screams. She covered her mouth with her hand but couldn't look away as Oliver's white shirt colored with alarmingly fast growing red stain, right in the middle of his chest. His eyes were still locked on hers, the color on his face fading quickly. Another shot rang out and Oliver winced again before falling on his knees heavily. The second shot was followed by a third, every one of them hitting flesh, making him jerk.

A man was by his side in seconds as everyone realized what had happened. 

The room filled with panic. People started running around, attempting to leave the building, and effectively blocking all the entrances, causing even more panic to spread. The heavily armed security guards drew their guns out, trying to locate the shooter. Children were crying and the elderly toppling over due to all the people pushing each other to get to the doors.

Oliver's shirt stained with deep red spots, the blood quickly starting to stream down, mainly from his first wound, probably the most severe. The previously white and clean floor colored with red. 

She vaguely heard someone calling her name and grabbing her upper arm, holding her back when she found herself pushing her way past the crowd, towards him. She couldn't find the power to wrench herself free from her company's grip as her own knees gave in. She fell to the floor weakly, knees and palms hitting the floor, hard. She couldn't do anything but stare at Oliver, who stared right back at her in a similar position, his right hand slowly raising to the hem of his soaked shirt, moving up to his abdomen.  
She felt as if she was watching a movie in slow motion, looking at the situation with an outsider's eyes. There they were, two people on their knees in the middle of a dance floor, staring at each other. People were running all around them in circles, paniced cries filling the room. She didn't feel anything, didn't hear anything, didn't understand. She looked right at him, but couldn't grasp the thought of the situation. She felt detached.

_What?_

Her vision blurred, ears ringing. She let out a gut-wrenching sob somewhere deep from her throat, and the spell was broken. She watched as his face turned blank, his eyes falling to look down at his hands which were now completely covered in red. She saw him swallow thickly, before looking back up at her. Slowly, he collapsed on the floor, despite the man's effort to keep him upright. Three other men joined the first one.

She couldn't think. Logically she knew she should be calling 911 right then, but she couldn't get herself to move. She was grabbing her company's arm with so much force , nails digging into the flesh, it must've hurt. They didn't say anything and Felicity couldn't care less.

She watched as Oliver's arms went limp and dropped to the floor. He was laying in a rapidly growing puddle of his own blood, the sight making her nauseous. This was not right. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to go home and have a nice evening in, just the two of them. He wasn't supposed to get shot. He wasn't supposed to be dying. 

Felicity felt her stomach drop when she saw one of the men checking Oliver's throat for a pulse.

_No._

She found herself crawling forward still on her knees, arms shaking, her clammy hands sticking against the cold tile, until she finally reached him.

"Oliver", she whimpered, unable to speak up. "Oliver, no."

One of the men tried to block her field of vision with a paniced look on his face, saying something she couldn't hear. She pushed her way through forcibly and with some sort of superhuman power, she got past him, and kneeled beside Oliver. Her dress got wet under her, the now damp cloth clinging to her skin, feeling warm. There was so much blood. It had spread all around him, some of it smudged even further from people's footsteps. 

People who walked right _past_ him.

Oliver's eyes were narrowed but open, which was a good sign, she noted. She had to swallow down the rising wave of nausea, now really was not the time. Her hands here on his chest immediately, moving over to his face.

"Hey, Oliver", she said urgently, shaking him a little, which got him to turn his head towards her. "It's gonna be okay, okay?" His eyes were pained but other than that he seemed calm. Almost relaxed. Too relaxed.

Not a good sign.

"F'licity", he slurred, sounding as if his tongue was too big to his mouth. He swallowed thickly before wincing, a pained expression flashing across his face. He looked  at her with pleading eyes, begging her for something, which she realized to be confusion. He didn't understanding what was going on. 

It broke her heart.

He was panting heavily, but she was glad he was talking. Another rush of tears escaped her eyes.

Just as she was opening her mouth, another set of shots rang out. 

Felicity reacted in a split second. She leaned over Oliver, instictively trying to shield his body with her own. He was _not_ going to get shot again. Screams or terror filled the room once again but she tried her best to block it out. She buried his head in her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. _Just wait it out._

After a few seconds she was surprised to find herself uninjured, or at least she didn't feel any physical pain. She almost felt relieved for a moment until she realized that only meant that someone else was hurt somewhere in the room. Soon she felt air shift around her, and she could feel the presense of another person near her. 

The whole ballroom fell completely, utterly silent.

A cold surge of uneasiness fell over her.  She felt Oliver grab her arm urgently, attempting to pull her to the side weakly which caused alarm bells to go off in her head more than anything else yet. The smell of gunpowder hit her nose and she filled with dread. Something was _very_ wrong. Forcing down the utter terror she felt at that moment, she bit her lip to stop it from shaking before slowly raising her head.

She was met with a barrel of a gun, pointed right at her face.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she followed the arm holding the gun with her eyes, all the way up to the face covered with a mask showing only eyes, nose and mouth. It was a man, maybe about six feet tall, but she couldn't identify him. He was young, maybe in his early twenties. When her eyes met his under the mask, she saw no remorse. The man stared back at her with cold eyes, showing no emotion whatsoever. A cold chill ran down her back as she realized she was likely to die within a couple seconds.

"Ple- please", she heard Oliver pant, "Don't." 

The panic in his voice terrified her. "Oliver", she whimpered quietly, without moving her eyes from the shooter, who was watching them unmoved.  "Shut up", she said.

"Felicity", Oliver breathed.

"Let him die", the shooter stated in a thick accent she could quite wrap her finger around, waving the gun at Oliver's direction. "Let him lay there and die. He deserves it."

Felicity felt her stomach drop, the thought unbearable. Did this man really expect her to just sit back and watch him bleed out? She couldn't even begin to wrap her mind around that. Then another thought hit her.

This wasn't just a random shooting, she realized. The guy had a target. Oliver was _the target_. 

She was going to be sick.

She didn't dare to breathe. "Don't do this", she whispered. She felt Oliver squeezing her arm a little more forcefully this time, but she shrugged him off. She saw a look of surprise flash on the shooter's face before sobering again, improving his grip on the gun. "You don't have to do this.", she begged. She moved to sit upright, sliding her hands very slowly to support her weight.

"Don't", Oliver breathed, sounding more frantic, "Felicity, _please_ ". His voice broke at the last word, almost making her falter for a moment.

"I'm here, Oliver", she whispered. Felicity pressed her other hand over one of the gunshot wounds stealthily to control the bleeding, but noticed quickly that it was really no use. The blood pulsated in sync with his rapid heartbeat, flowing freely between her fingers. She pressed down a little harder, causing Oliver to wince slightly.

"Sorry", she murmured, not really sorry if this was what she had to do to save his life. She tried to make it look like if she was just leaning on him, never breaking the eye contact with the shooter. "Look", she tried, "I know what it's like to feel desperate-"

"If I were you, I would stop talking", he stated deadly calm, shoving the gun against her forehead more firmly. 

Felicity closed her eyes for a moment and willed her tears not to fall. This man was too calm, almost calculating, as if he'd done this his whole life. Maybe he had, she thought. She didn't know the background or his motive. Something about him screamed 'danger' to her every cell, making her want to run in the opposite direction. Of course shooters were dangerous in general but this felt like something more. He seemed so trigger-happy, almost _ruthless_.

"Listen, I-", she gulped, opening her eyes but trailed off as her gaze wandered behind him to the guard in black suit who was currently sneaking towards them, unholstering his gun discreetly. He glanced at her and shook his head, looking back at the shooter. She understood the message and quickly moved her eyes back at the man in front of her. 

"Do you want me to shoot you?", he hissed, "Maybe I'll shoot you first, then I'll shoot Queen. Is that what you want?"

She stole a glance at the guard, who made a hand gesture towards the shooter, encouraging her to play along. She swallowed hard before talking. "You don't want to do this."

"Yes, I do."

Felicity heard Oliver taking a wheezing breath, which triggered a harsh coughing fit. Momentally forgetting the situation, Felicity turned to him to help. "Stop!", the shooter yelled, grabbing her hair and yanking her backwards violently. She cried out when she felt searing pain as she was thrown on the floor.

"Hey", she heard Oliver groan as threateningly as he could, which was followed with silent, breathy whimper when the shooter kicked him. Felicity took a deep breath before rising back up to look at Oliver, who was lying on his side, gasping for breath. Tears stung in her eyes. 

Her scalp throbbed where her hair had been pulled, probably missing some of it, but it was minor compared to the man in front of her. 

"Please don't hurt her", Oliver breathed quietly. 

"Oliver", she whispered. 

"I do not like mistreating women," he shooter spoke to him in a thick accent. "That is not how we do things, remember?"

Even in distress, she could see Oliver's eyes turn cold as he glanced at the shooter. 

"You brought this to yourself, _Kapitan_. Remember that when you draw your last breath." he continued.  Felicity stared at him with question but Oliver didn't seem confused or scared about the statement. He continued to look at the shooter evenly, something close to recognition flashing in his eyes. 

Then the guard surged forward. Felicity watched as the shooter reacted quickly, turning around and grabbing the guard's wrist, twisting it in a strangely familiar way to Felicity, until the gun fell useless on the floor. He cried out in pain as she heard a sickening snap. The shooter punched him with his elbow at the same time as he moved a leg behing his and the guard fell down. The shooter spat something down at him in a foreign language, before shooting him right to the head.

Felicity felt like throwing up when she recognized it to be Russian.

Her gaze fell to the body on the ground. She had to do something, fast, or they were all dead. There was no predicting what the man was going to do next. She poundered her limited options. She could try something or she could wait. Think, Smoak. _Think._

Oliver growled something in Russian, which seemed to catch the shooter's attention. He kneeled down next to Oliver, his focus now completely on him as he quietly said something back. At that moment Felicity wished she'd taken that Russian for Beginners -course in college.

This guy could be Bratva, she concluded, this could be the brotherhood's mission. That was the only reason she could come up with why a Russian guy would want to kill Oliver, and seemed like they could have some history. But why would the Bratva want to kill him anyway, wasn't he the captain or something? This man was a trained fighter. He could be hard to take down even for Oliver and she didn't know how to fight in general. 

She took off her other heel quickly and hid it under her legs just as the he turned around to face her again. _What are you doing?_

"Please don't kill me", she fake squealed. She didn't want to show weakness to this man, but she knew that could be the only way for him to lower his guard enough for her to act. Felicity wouldn't even dream of trying to fight against a guy with a freaking gun, especially if the guy happened to be a member of the Russian mafia. Yeah, she would stay quiet and wait it out, but Oliver might not have that kind of time. She needed to act. She couldn't take on a full-grown man just like that, though. She needed him to believe her to be weak and harmless.

" _Felicity_ ", Oliver looked at her in horror, realizing where she was aiming at. She didn't dare to look back at him, knowing she would probably start crying or something if she did. She needed to focus, to find an opening. 

The shooter smiled with satisfaction, probably thinking Oliver was terrified because she was supposely letting him die. Felicity sighed in defeat, dropping her hands on the floor. She needed it to look like she gave up. In his eyes, she was just the grieving wife. In reality her hands were now wrapped around the shoe, ready to strike. 

"I'm sorry", she whispered to Oliver, and the shooter let out a breathy chuckle. Oliver shook his head with an odd expression on his face, clearly trying to tell her something she didn't catch. They both knew she wasn't apologizing for the same reason the shooter thought she did.

Her heart poundered in her chest so loudly she wouldn't be surprised if he could her it too. She wasn't great with stressful situations. But she had to do this, she reminded herself. All she needed was a distraction.

She didn't have to wait long.

Someone in the ballroom cried out which got the shooter to wheel around again, pulling the trigger, which quieted the voice abruptly. Felicity didn't know if that was simply because of the threat or if they weren't breathing anymore. _Now or never_ , she thought as in a fraction of a second, she got up and hit the back of his head with the heel as hard as she could.

The man fell down with a thud.

She practically threw the shoe away from her as if it burned her. She looked down at him, now unconscious on the floor. "Holy shit", she breathed. She couldn't believe she actually did that. She _actually_ managed to knock out a maybe-bratva-guy. She kicked the gun in his hand across the floor before kneeling back down to Oliver. She felt the adrenalin flowing through her system, making her tremble all over. 

Oliver looked at her with relief. "Felicity", he breathed, not having to say anything else. "He-"

"It's okay, we're gonna be okay now", she murmured, pressing the wounds once again. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? She was no doctor. Sure, she had some medical experience for patching Oliver up a few times, but nothing like this. 

"Could someone like tie him up or something", she motioned to the shooter, "I don't want to risk him getting up and shooting any more people. Where are those damn bodyguards?", she asked no one in particular.

"They're all dead", someone replied quietly.

"What?", her head swang to the direction of the voice. "How- How can they be dead?"

No one answered this time. Okay, so she was on her own. _She was on her own and Oliver was bleeding out on the floor_. A feeling of utter terror washed over her. This was _not_ good. Tears stung in her eyes, threatening to fall. Her lungs seized in horror as the realization sank in. No one was coming. 

"Call 911", she managed to whisper, before lowering her head to lay it against Oliver's side. Tears of frustration and fear spilled over, and she sniffled silently. No one was coming and she had no training. There was no doctors at the event due to the big accident earlier that day, they were all working. The Russian guy was laying on the floor in front of them, unconscious for now and everyone was panicking. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably as she let go for a while, letting herself break for a moment. 

After a few seconds she raised her head again, biting her lower lip. She couldn't just sit there and wallow in despair when Oliver was bleeding on the floor. She looked down at him, who was watching her silently, looking awfully pale. His breathing was raspy, which got Felicity to act. "Is there anyone with medical training whatsoever?", she said in a shaky voice as loudly as she could at that moment. People started looking at each other, whispering, until a young twenty-something brunette girl was pushed forward.

She looked scared but Felicity couldn't blame her. "Well?" 

The girl took a hesitant step. "He- He needs medical attention", she said quietly, stating the obvious.

"No shit, Sherlock", Felicity snapped, "You care to give that attention?"  She pressed down on his chest, the bright red blood still flowing. She wondered how much blood he had already lost, how much he could take. It wasn't the girl's fault, though. "Sorry. Are you a doctor?"

The brunette kneeled down beside her. "Surgical intern", she murmured. Felicity watched her squeezing her hands together, shaking uncontrollably. "I only know the theory, I haven't been in the operation room like _ever_ and I'm not even- I'm not a surgeon yet, I'm only an intern and he's the mayor and I can't do this- there's so much blood so I'm probably too late anyway and _oh god_   he's gonna die and I don't-"

"Hey, hey!", she stopped her babble, she really didn't need her freaking out when Oliver's life was on the line.  "He is _not_ going to die. He survived on an island translating to a freaking _purgatory_ so this isn't going to take him down. You know more than I do about this stuff so I need you do use that knowledge."

The girl was already shaking her head. "I can't do this, I shouldn't-"

"Okay, okay, let's just calm down", she heard herself saying. Did she trust this girl? She had to. She was Oliver's only option at the moment so it was her or nothing, and nothing wasn't really a great choice. "What's your name?"

"Danielle"

"Okay, Danielle", she nodded quickly before focusing on Oliver again, who's breathing was even more shallow. _Not good_. "If your textbook described these injuries, what would you suggest?"

Danielle looked down at Oliver. "I don't-"

"33-year-old man with multiple gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen, shallow breath", Felicity tried, "How do you treat him?"

"I'm not- I'm not sure", Danielle stuttered, "I think we should check the- Umm-"

Her tone got Felicity to raise her head to look at her. "You think? I need more, Danielle. Please."

"Is there exit wounds?", Danielle tried.

"Does it matter?"

"If there isn't, that means the bullets are still inside him so moving him could be fatal if they moved to a blood vessel or anything", she explained, twisting her hands nervously. "We probably should check."

Together they managed to lift Oliver's surprisingly heavy body just enough for Danielle to check, him groaning in pain the whole time. Felicity's eyes welled with tears once again and she had to bit her tongue to stop herself from interrupting Danielle's examination. "Well?", she asked, fearing for the worst.

"Two of them came through, so there's only one in his chest, which just happens to be the worst place.. Try to cover the wounds with something", Danielle suggested, voice wavering. "Especially the chest wound. It's sucking air inside his body and that risks his lung collapsing, so covering it helps."

"What does that mean?", Felicity asks but thinks better ot it. "Or never mind. Something bad nonetheless. Does anyone have like tissues or anything? Towels? Someone take off your coat", she spoke. Looking up, she saw one of the men offering his, looking terrified.

"Okay, I need you to tear it in smaller pieces, something we can press against these wounds", she explained, trying to sound more calmer than she actually felt. "And put your wallet under his head." When the man didn't move, she raised her head again to see him looking down at Oliver, completely frozen. A woman on his right was making some sort of vague sounds, close to hyperventilating.

"Look, I get that you're scared and all but now would be a good time to do something, because this man here is my husband, and he's-", she stuttered, "he's got three bullets in him so he really can't.", she whispered, looking down at him. "And I'm _absolutely terrified_ right now, and I'm kinda busy trying-", she swallowed thickly, "trying not to break down so that means that _you_ don't get to do that either. You have to push it down for a while, pretend you're this brave person who doesn't get scared, because you don't know this man like I do, and he's going to need you to keep it together", she spoke in a high voice, "He needs you to keep it together because he's got bullets in him and- and  we were supposed to go home and order in, William has a sleepover so it was going to be just us. But we can't do that, we're stuck here instead with a freaking Bratv-", she cut herself off. "We're stuck in here with a shooter, so you gotta help me here", she breathed. 

The woman let out an audible sob, causing Felicity to turn sharply to her. 

"No!", she squealed, pointing a finger at her, " _That_ can't happen. If you're going to do that, you might as well go somewhere else _right now_ , because if that happens, I'm going to freak out and that's not going to help anyone, especially not Oliver. ", she inhaled sharply, "I just knocked out a guy who shot my husband so _you don't get to freak out_!"

"Paramedics are on their way", someone said on her right. She sighed in relief, even though that didn't mean they were clear yet. Thank god for someone thinking straight and actually calling for help.

"You hear that, Oliver?", she forced a smile, "Help is on the way, you're gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay", she reassured them both. The man handed her the cloth and she replaced her other hand with it. The blood began to seep through the fabric too quickly, and she felt the warmth of it on her hands. 

Danielle teared Oliver's shirt open, pressing a piece of the coat back on the wounds on his abdomen. Her eyes moved over him. "Mrs. Queen?", she called warily. Felicity's stomach dropped.

"What is it now?", she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

Danielle pointed at the dark purple spot spreading all the way from his chest to his left side. It just looked like a really large bruise, but it seemed to be extended deeper. "He's got internal bleeding", she said quietly, "Like _a lot_ of internal bleeding."

"That's _really_ bad, right?", she whispered, not wanting Oliver to hear her. Which was kind of ridiculous considering he was _right there_. 

"The bullets must've hit some major organs", she deduced, "And judging from the pulsating bleeding, probably an artery too."

"Great", she lowered her head. Of course this wasn't it. "What does that mean?"

Danielle twisted her head to look at her. "The blood is coming straight from his heart, so he's bleeding a lot faster than he would it it would've been some other vein. But the good news is that the bullet to the chest didn't hit his aorta."

Felicity looked back at her, frowning. "How do you know?"

"He would've bled out in seconds."

Oh, that's a brand new awful scenario to haunt her in her dreams later, if she ever slept again, that is. She wouldn't count on it. This moment alone was enough to keep her awake for awhile.

"Flic'ty", Oliver rasped, sounding so much more out of it than a few minutes ago. 

"I'm here, I'm here", she whispered. The weight of his head against her other hand increased as he started to lose consciousness. A sense of helplessness swept past her, her panic growing.

"No, no, no", Felicity shook him a little harder and his head rolled back at her but his eyes were unfocused. "Stay awake, Oliver. Talk to me, it's okay, we're okay. You're okay, help is on the way, stay with me", she babbled, her voice fading. "Just hold on."  

She wasn't used to act in situation like this, but she's watched enough Grey's Anatomy to know you had to keep the injured conscious and talking, by any chance. But this was not Grey's Anatomy, this was real life. And if she thought about it, patients in Grey's Anatomy died awfully often.

Danielle reached out to replace the cloth under Felicity's hand. Somehow the roles reversed, Felicity tried not to panic as Danielle worked on him. 

"He's cold", Felicity noted aloud, which got Danielle to stop whatever she was doing. She placed two fingers to his throat for a few seconds.

"He's going into shock", she said sounding too worried for Felicity's liking. "We need those paramedics here and fast", she mumbled to herself.

Felicity turned to her then. "And?" she breathed.

"His pulse is weak and he's got insufficient blood flow, but I'm mostly concerned about the risk of heart attack or organ damage since they're already stressed due to the other injuries." Danielle explained, changing the cloth again when it got soaked.

"It's 'kay", Oliver mumbled so quietly Felicity wasn't sure if he said anything in the first place. 

"Keep him talking, Mrs. Queen. I don't want him passing out", Danielle said.

Felicity sniffled and wiped his nose. "How are you feeling, Oliver?"

" 'm good. Doesn't hurt"

"Oh, that's-", _very bad_ , "Good, Oliver. That's good."

He closed her eyes again and this time when she shook him, he didn't wake up. _He didn't wake up_. Her hands were shaking so much she had trouble holding him, and the slippery blood on his alarmingly cold skin wasn't helping. 

"Stay awake, Oliver!", she told him, moving her hands to his cheeks, cupping his head gently. "Don't die, please don't die, Oliver. Please, please"

Suddenly the sickening stench of blood hit her nose, almost making her vomit right there. She had to swallow a few times before opening her mouth was safe again. The blood wasn't the problem itself, it was the fact this was _Oliver's_ blood. Only then did she notice how _lifeless_ he looked; dried blood on the corner of his mouth, face pale and relaxing more and more every second. 

He was dying.

Then the doors burst open and Danielle was dragging her away as a team of paramedics gathered around Oliver, barking orders to each other, doing something Felicity couldn't understand. His shirt was cut open rest of the way, wires and tubes were inserted, and one of them checked for pulse, attatching him to an EKG. Another guy put a mask over his mouth and nose, trying to get some more oxygen into his system. Felicity watched as the men fought to keep him alive, an ugly sob leaving her throat, clinging on the young woman who was currently holding her back. 

She was saying something to her, trying to pull her further away, but Felicity resisted. She kept her eyes on Oliver's still form, silently begging him to survive. He survived five years of a freaking prison island, Hong Kong and Russia, he wasn't going down like this.

"He's in v-fib", a man said, causing Felicity's heart to clentch painfully even though she didn't quite know what that meant. 

One of the paramedics pulled out a defibrillator, spread some sort of gel on the paddles before pressing them on Oliver's chest. They shocked him once, twice, three times, and every time his lifeless body jumped off the floor by the force of the electricity. Felicity felt lightheaded, another wave of nausea rising until suddenly Oliver groaned.

Felicity was moving before anyone could stop her, instantly back at his side. She was vaguely aware of the paramedics trying to speak to her, to get her to back off, but she wouldn't leave him now. Not when his eyes were slightly opened behind the oxygen mask.

But something was very, very wrong. His eyes were unfocused, moving rapidly over the people around him, his breathing fast and uneven.

"He's having trouble breathing"

"He's panicking"

"He's got a punctured lung"

"Intubate him!"

"I'm trying, he's fighting against it"

"Mr. Queen, you need to relax"

"Sedate him!"

"He's losing too much blood"

"Give me the syringe"

"The bullet hit an artery"

"This is going to feel uncomfortable, Mr. Queen, but I need you to let it breathe for you"

Felicity watched helplessly as they continued to bark orders at each other, Oliver gasping for breath when the paramedics inserted him with something which made him still, before thrusting a tube down his throat. He gagged reflexively a few times and Felicity squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort him as much as herself. 

She almost wished she didn't when he didn't squeeze back.


	2. Breathe Out Breathe In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity deals with the aftermath of recent events and makes an important phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to update this until next week but I got impatient and wanted to do it today haha.
> 
> This chapter is a little more slow-paced than the last one, but I wanted to explore how Felicity handles everything after all the craziness. Consider this a breather (even though the angst is still there)..

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. She hugged her knees to her chest tightly, clasping her hands together in an attempt to stop them from shaking, before taking a shuddering breath. Blood pounded in her ears, silencing everything else around her. The comfortable hum kept her feeling detached, almost as if she wasn't really there. At least for a moment.

Her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest and she was sure it was going to explode. She felt throbbing pain just behind her eyes, threatening to spread to her temples. It didn't bother her, though. t was something she could focus on, something other to think of than everything what had just happened. She slowed down her breathing when it sped up, making her lightheaded. _Just focus on the breathing, Felicity_.

She hesitantly opened her eyes again, but her vision was so blurry she wasn't sure if she had opened them at all. Blinking a few times, she could see the edge of the chair she was currently sitting on and the dull, gray floor, fluorescent lights shining too brightly against it. A young child was crying somewhere close, the noise piercing through her head painfully. 

A female voice echoed from a speaker right above her, calling a code blue in the ER. Whatever that meant, it got the staff running around in circles, someone almost bumping onto her on the way. She attempted to curl into herself even more.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

She was vaguely aware of the fact that she was most likely in shock, that's why she wasn't freaking out more. Don't get her wrong, she _did_ freak out but she was pretty certain this was not it. She was tense, constantly on the edge, so maybe freaking out would be a welcome relief. She shivered when she realized that must be how Oliver felt all the time.

"Excuse me, miss?", a male voice said gently.

Felicity sighed tiredly before raising her head to look up at the nurse in light turquoise scrub top with matching flared trousers, bent down more at her level. His face was full of compassion as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Do you need something? Go wash up, maybe? Change of clothes? Cup of water or coffee?", he said in a cautious tone, as if she would break any second. 

Felicity shook her head. "No," she whispered barely audible. "I'm good." Her vision blurred again as she remembered those to be Oliver's last words before passing out. And he was _not_ good.

She watched as the turquoise guy slowly nodded, visibly hesitating, before walking away again. 

She must've made quite a sight, slouched against one of the extremely uncomfortable chairs in the lobby, curled around herself in a sparkly dress, eyes red and buffy, dried tear tracks on her face. She almost chuckled at the cliché image in her head.

Felicity pitied those people. They were the husbands, wives and children of those who were rolled past the doors with yellow lines and "authorised personnel only" signs. The friends and families who were forced to sit there, to wait. They were kept away from their loved ones, left in the ignorance to hope and pray they would make it through. Ignorance wasn't bliss. Whoever came up with the saying, hadn't clearly ever been a wife in the waiting rom.

That's all se was to those people. A wife in the waiting room.

She pitied those people. And now they pitied her. She could feel their eyes on her, watching, as an audible sob left her lips. She saw a young girl pointing her finger towards her, saying something to her mother, who quickly lowered her child's hand.

_Why him?_

She hadn't heard anything since the ambulance had arrived to Starling General and the door of an emergency room had locked in front of her with a slam almost three hours ago.  She was worrying herself sick, literally, not knowing if he would make it. 

How did Oliver do this when it was her in that room? Not only did he have to drag her out of that limo, he had apparently brought her to the hospital himself. Then he did that again with Thea when Lian Yu blew up and she fell into a coma.

Oh god, _Thea._

Felicity buried her face in her hands. She had to call her eventually. She and Roy weren't supposed to visit Star City until next week, but something told her they would fly right back when she made that call.

She absolutely hated to be the person to tell Thea her brother was almost killed again. Except that the shooting was intentional, the guy was trying to kill him which practically made it an attempted _murder_. Someone had tried to murder her husband as _Oliver Queen_.

Yep, she was going to be sick.

Urging the queasy feeling down, she moved to ask for a phone from the info desk since she left her purse at the city hall, when the throbbing in her head increased. Slowly, she sat back down and leaned down to rest her head on her hands. World seemed to spin around her and another wave of nausea hit her, more forcefully than the last one and for a moment she was sure she was going to throw up.

She could have a slight concussion, she deduced. She did hit her head on that floor when she was tossed back, but she didn't think that would've been enough for damage. Then again the adrenalin was only wearing off now so it was possible.

After a few deep breaths, Felicity finally managed to get on her two feet and wobble down the hall. She found the information desk after a little searching, leaning heavily on the railing on the wall. 

A middle-aged woman with baby pink outfit and frizzy, brown hair peeped at her behind the glass, lifting her round glasses when they dropped down her nose. Something about Felicity must've alerted her because as soon as she landed her eyes on her, she jumped up and rounded the table to get to her side.

"Are you alright, miss?", she asked, clear concern in her voice.

Felicity nodded fiercely but grabbed the lady's extended hand for balance nonetheless. "Can I make a call? I don't have my phone", she breathed, swallowing hard.

The other woman ignored her request. She looked at her with trained eye, frowing suspiciously at whatever she saw. "Is that your blood?"

Only then did she look down at herself with wide eyes, bile quickly rising in her throat. She didn't know how she'd missed the fact that she was still in her silver dress, which was completely stained with Oliver's blood. And it hadn't even _dried_ yet.

The panic started out of nowhere. 

She stared down at her dress, unable to move her eyes from it. The still wet fabric clung to her legs, now cold, unbearably cold, _too_ cold. She was so, so cold. She grabbed the garment in an attempt to tear it off her body as hot tears burning in her eyes in contrast to the chilly feeling everywhere else. 

It didn't get off, she _couldn't get it off_. She scratched the texture, trying to get the blood to disappear without success. She saw Oliver on the floor, Oliver bleeding, Oliver's blood, _Oliver's blood_ on her dress. Too much bood, so, so much blood.

She didn't hear the lady speaking to her, nor did she feel her hitting the floor when her knees buckled. Her breathing turned to quick and shallow, hands shaking, tears blurring her vision. 

He was supposed to be there to catch her when she fell, he promised, he promised to always be there. He said he would. He was hurt. He was bleeding. He's bleeding, so much blood on the floor. Blood everywhere. He needed her. He needed her and she wasn't there. He shouldn't die alone, he shouldn't die in general. 

She couldn't breathe, she needed to breathe. Oliver needed to breathe. Let him breathe, let him be. She needed to call Thea, she should be there. Oliver loves Thea. Everyone loves Thea. Yes, call Thea. _Call Thea_.

She tried to think straight but was quick to find herself going around the same circle for the third time. Her legs tingled from adrenalin coursing through the veins and she wanted to run, she _needed_ to run away from this so badly, as if she did, everything would turn out to be okay. The urgent need threatened to suffocate her for a moment because all she needed was to run but she couldn't move her legs. _Why weren't her legs moving_? Her lungs burned, maybe she was already running and didn't just know it.

Gripping her thighs, she attempted to breathe in deeply when her vision started to blur from the lack of oxygen, or the enormous amount of it, she didn't know. Either way she really needed to _breathe_. For a moment she paniced when she couldn't catch her breath, but was quick to realize she actually needed to exhale too. 

Her hearing was the first to return, like she had taken her head out of a bag, eye sight slowly following suit. She was still shaking as she pushed herself back onto her knees, mild embarrassment coloring her face as she realized the information desk lady was silently squatting next to her, rubbing slow circles up and down her back.

Taking another shuddering breath, she raised her gaze to hers hesitantly. "I'm okay", she murmured, even when they both knew that wasn't true, her voice raspy. Thankfully the lady didn't say anything, just giving her a knowing look before nodding and helping Felicity back up. 

She didn't know why she had a reaction like that. It wasn't like this was the first time she'd seen blood, there had been plenty of times. Maybe it was because it was so much more severe, or because he was married to the man who that blood belonged to. Maybe she freaked out because she had been sitting there in that dress in front of all those people in the lobby. 

"Come on" the lady urged, waving her hand as she walked through one of the doors on the hall. Felicity frowned slightly, wiped her face, and followed.

The room was small, containing only two narrow bunk beds and one nightstand between them. The floor was dull grey like the rest of the hospital, but the walls were colored in navy blue, for change. The white covers on the beds looked comfortable, but Felicity didn't think she'd be able to sleep. Even the thought of sleeping made her shudder, she couldn't be asleep when Oliver got out of surgery, she wouldn't risk it. And there was also the whole nightmare thing, which she wouldn't be able to handle just yet. She would cross that bridge when she came to it.

The pink-scrubbed lady pushed a pair of baby blue scrubs and a pair of white sneakers in front of her and threw a granola bar with a bottle of water on one of the beds, god knows where they appeared. She searched her pockets before pulling out a small phone with tiny screen, making Felicity cringe internally at the old model. The other woman placed it neatly next to the other items.

"Towels are in the closet", she told her, pointing at the door on the opposite side of the room. "You can take a shower in the bathroom and clean up a bit. I'll be outside if you need anything else."

"Thank you", Felicity nodded gratefully.

The older woman turned to leave but wheeled around at the doorway. "Have you ever had a panic attack before?"

_Panic attack?_

"When I was younger, yes", she frowned, "But it wasn't like that."

"Well, everyone experiences them differently,", the lady shoved her hands in her pockets and shrugged, "Depending on the cause, of course, they could be different every time for the same person."

Felicity was already shaking her head in disbelief. That couldn't be it. She wasn't a panic attack type of person, not anymore. She'd got past that. She _was_ past that.

"I know what a panic attack looks like", the other woman continued softly at her confusion, "Trust me."

She didn't stick around to wait for the reply that never left Felicity's mouth.

She fiddled with the clothes in her arms for a moment before sighing to herself and heading to the bathroom in the corner. That dress was going for trash, she would probably burn it right there if it was legal to do so in a public hospital.

* * *

  
Three hours and about 40 minutes after first arriving to the hospital, Felicity sat down on one of the bunk beds, freshly clothed. She skipped the shower, not having the energy to actually stand for the 10 minutes it took her to wash and condition her hair properly. The granola bar was also still sitting untouched on the nightstand, staring at her accusingly for not eating it, but she did take a sip of the water.

The lady's tiny phone burned in her palm, urging her to finally call Oliver's sister to tell the news, but Felicity couldn't get herself to dial the number. She stared down at it, poundering her limited options once again. 

Thea would be pissed if she didn't let her know about the latest events in their lives as soon as she could, but how does one break news like these? She couldn't just blunty say it, right? _Hi, Thea. Oliver has been shot and I don't know anything about that yet, I just thought it would be a great idea to call_ _ahead and freak you out_. Was a cautious approach more suitable? _Hi, Thea. I'm gonna ask you to sit down and scare the crap out of you by saying that because no good news ever came from that start_.

Deciding there was no great options to choose from, she picked up the phone again and typed the set of numbers with shaky hands. Her thumb lingered over the call button for a while, forcing herself to press it after a few seconds before she could talk herself out of it again.

Thea answered with a tired _"Hello?"_ after the third ring. Quickly glancing at the clock on the wall, Felicity realized that it was closer to 2AM in Miami since it was already almost 11PM in Star City. _Great_ , she wasn't only telling Thea her brother was hurt, she also just ruined the rest of her night.

"Thea," she peeped in a small voice, "It's Felicity."

_"Felicity?"_ , Thea asked, confusion clear in her voice. _"Why are you calling me at-"_ , a pause, _"2AM?"_

Felicity breathed deeply, knowing what she was going to say next would change both of their lives, and even possibly the relationship between the two women. Drawing out the inevitable as long as she could, she just listened to her breathe for a moment before dropping the bomb.

"Thea, I- uh-", she stuttered, swallowing, "There's something I need to tell you."

Oh, she just went with the latter option apparently. Mentally kicking herself for speaking before thinking, she squeezed her eyes shut as she waited for some sort of reply from the other side of the line.

_"What is it?"_ , she heard Thea ask slowly, now suspicious. 

Felicity opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish for a few seconds before clamping it shut with a snap, unable to say the words. Not as in 'I love you' words, since _the words_ usually meant that in movies. Not that she didn't love Thea, she did, but in a totally platonic way. She loved Oliver and if she did love Thea like that, that would be just weird. Not as in a female relationship -weird, she was all in for gays but as I'm-married-to-your-sibling kind of weird. The sibling who was currently opened up, literally _open_ , on a table on the other side of the building.  

And then she was babbling even in her thoughts. _Great._

_"Felicity? You're kind of scaring me."_

The fear in her voice snapped her out of it instantly, bringing her back into the moment. "I'm sorry", she breathed, "There really isn't a good way to say this so I'm just going to say it."

"It's about Oliver, isn't it?"

"Thea", she pleaded as her voice cracked, forcing her to take a break. Was it really that obvious? Her lips began to tremble as she tried to come up with a reasonable sentence in her head, tears quickly starting to stream down her cheecks.

And _wow_ , she cried a lot. Her eyes were bloodshot, swollen, the contact lenses still in her eyes making them feel dry but she really didn't want to take them out and be blind.

Thea was quiet on the other side of the line for a moment but Felicity could hear her breathing so she knew she was still there. Folding her legs under her on the bed, she took another shaky breath before talking.

"Yes, it's about Oliver", she whispered, "Is Roy there?"

_"Sleeping. What is it, Felicity? Is he okay?"_ , Thea asked again, now even more alert, frustration creeping in her voice.

"Wake him up and put me on speaker. I prefer to only say this once."

_"You're really freaking me out"_ , she heard her murmur but moving around nonetheless. 

Felicity listened as the two interacted with each other for awhile, ripping the nailpolish off her fingers impatiently until a soft _"you're on speaker"_ could be heard.

"Okay the thing is-"

_"Just spit it out, Blondie"_ , Roy snarled tiredly but Felicity knew he didn't mean anything by it. _"Thea's sweating bullets."_

"Oliver has been shot", she blurted and bit her tongue.

The line was quiet for a long time after that. Felicity shifted uncomfortably, an ugly sob threatening to pass through her lips. Saying it out loud was so much worse, it somehow made it more real.

_"I'll take that back"_ , Roy murmured from the line as Thea's soft _"What?"_ made Felicity's heart clentch. Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, she cleared her voice. 

"I don't know if the news have reached the world yet, but Oliver was shot at the re-election gala."

_"Is- Is he-"_

"He's alive," Felicity added quickly, "Or at least was the last time I saw him. Barely, but still. I'm at Starling General and he's still in surgery so..", she trailed off.

_"What-"_ , she heard Thea murmur uneasily, _"What happened?"_

Felicity bit her lip. Should she tell them about her suspicion about the Bratva? She needed a manual for this sort of thing. Telling your sister-in-law about her brother's secret connections with a Russian crime organization, where he happens to be one of the highest-ranking members, while he was supposed to be stranded on a deserted island wasn't exactly an everyday conversation, or a one done through the phone. Being honest, she didn't know how much Thea knew about Oliver's off-island years, if she knew anything at all. 

And what if it _was_ in fact the brotherhood, what would that mean to their lives? Would they come after her or even Thea next when they realized Oliver was still alive, and Thea wouldn't even know why it was happening? Would they try to kill him again?

A dreadful feeling filled her chest at the thought. Was it safe here?

Realizing she'd been silent for quite some time now, she cleared her throat. "I- I don't really know. Some guy just-", she stated quietly, not wanting to relive it, "Some guy just shot him in the middle of the ballroom, in front of everyone."

_"Is it severe? Where was he hit?"_ , Roy asked from the background.

Felicity closed her eyes. This wasn't going to be easy, no matter how long she dragged it out. "There was three shots. One to the chest, two to the abdomen.", she said quietly. The memories of the evening were still vivid, the picture of Oliver laying in a pool of his own blood clear in her mind. A shiver went through her body. She doubted she would ever forget the look on his face when he understood he'd been shot or worse, when he realized her plan.

_"Three?"_ , Thea breathed.

"Yeah", she murmured, "He was the target after all."

_"What do you mean?"_ , Thea asked voice wavering.

Felicity realized what she'd just said. Great, _really_ great. Why couldn't she just _shut up_ and say the right thing for once? Exhaling loudly through her nose, she decided to just rip off the band-aid rest of the way.

"Because the guy told me to let him die."

_"You-"_ , Thea stuttered, _"You talked to him?"_

"There was a tiny situation going on", Felicity cringed. That was not a conversation she was eagerly waiting for. "I'll tell you when you get here."

_"Are you okay, Felicity?"_

"As okay as I can be", she answered truthfully.

_"No, I mean- He didn't-"_

"I'm fine, Thea."

She listened as Thea and Roy discussed something she didn't have the energy to keep up with, a sudden exhaustion settling over her like a thick blanket, suffocating her under its weight. The call wore her off more than she expected.

Letting her mind wander, she thought about Oliver. She thought about last night when everything was perfect, when they were laying on their bed, wrapped around each other's warmth, playful banter between them. She thought about his soft smile as he had brushed his fingertips over her cheek, how she had felt so incredibly safe and loved in that moment. She remembered his gentle eyes, how they looked at her like she was the moon, and his soft lips, which had kissed hers.

She thought about William, the nice breakfast they had shared as a family that morning, how domestic it had felt. Oliver had made pancakes and William cut the strawberries as she'd sat on the counter beside them sipping her morning coffee as her boys cooked. They had agreed not to let her near the stove after the incident with the pasta sauce and the thing was, she loved it. She loved Oliver and she loved William. She loved the little family they've created.

She thought about how drastically their life had already changed because of one man.

_"The earliest flight we could find leaves in the morning so we won't be there until early afternoon your time"_

Felicity jumped at the voice piercing her thoughts but recovered quickly. "Okay."

_"We'll be there as soon as we can. Text me updates?"_

"I, umm", she wiped her face, "I don't have my phone but I'll make sure someone keeps you informed."

_"Okay, see you then."_

Shutting off the phone, she sighed deeply. She thought about calling John next but realized she didn't know his number by heart and the little device in her palm didn't have internet connection. If John had tried to reach her, she wouldn't even know about it since her phone along with everything in her purse was probably evidence right now somewhere at SCPD. 

Too tired to give it any more thought, she set the phone down on the bed. Anxious to be back at the waiting room as soon as she could, she went to bathroom to quickly wash her face.

Just as she was reaching for the sink, her eyes caught her pale hands. The pale hands which were coated in blood like caramel over an apple, only dark red instead of golden brown. She hadn't even noticed. Moving her fingers, the dried blood felt like she'd have glue on them like she did with Elmer's glue as a kid.

Her hands shook as she turned the fauced on, attempting to scrub it off. The water turned violent red, making Felicity nauseous. She rubbed her hands together forcefully as she tried to wash the stains off but they stayed etched into her mind - an eternal reminder of the evening. A small sob worked its way out of her throat as she noticed more blood under her fingernails which she wasn't able to scrub off, it would only come off with time.

Looking up in the dirty mirror hanging slightly askew, she caught her own reflection. Unrecognizable pair of blue, bloodshot eyes which seemed to be sunken stared back, dark circles under them as if she hadn't slept in weeks instead of mere hours. There was an ugly, purple-bluish bruise on her forehead, which she hadn't even felt forming until now and bloody fingertips stained the side of her face and neck, light streams of it going down her cheek.

Her stomach churned and then she was leaning over, emptying the contents of her stomach until she was dry-heaving, the remnants of her dinner at the bottom of the sink.

* * *

  
She spent the last hours walking back and forth the mostly deserted halls, gray wall after a gray wall, only a few people sitting here and there. She listened the squeak of her her sneakers against the rubber sheet floor and bit her nails to nothing. She went to check the cafeteria when her stomach churned but returned empty handed as only the thought of food made her nauseous. She paced and watched as families got bad news, as children cried for their mothers and fathers, silently hoping she wouldn't be the next woman sobbing on the ground.

She stared at the clock passing 12AM.

She tightened her ponytail so many times her scalp started to ache. She released her blonde locks from the tie for a moment but pulled them back up almost instantly, needing to do something with her fidgeting hands. Anything.

When the shoes size too small began to hurt her toes, she sat down on one of the rows of chairs. Feet bobbling, she counted the tiles on the floor just for the sake of it. 

1AM.

A fear unlike anything else Felicity had ever experienced gripped her tightly, making her breath caught in her lungs as she watched the surgeon walking towards her in the lobby after the almost six-hour surgery. Slowly standing up to meet the man, she swallowed thickly, preparing herself for the worst.

"Mrs. Queen?", the man asked, stopping right in front of her with question.

Felicity's eyes trailed up from his tired eyes to the emerald green scrub cap with little black arrows, which was kind of ironic considering who his latest patient was. Not that he would know that, _he shouldn't_ at least, but Felicity found herself staring at the little thing, wanting to take it as a sign from the universe.

"Yes?", she managed to utter.

"I'm Dr. Ross, the chief of cardiothoracic surgery", he introduced himself but didn't bother extending his hand for a handshake. "Mr. Mayor lost a lot of blood at the scene as well as during the surgery", he explained, "But he made it through."

A huge breath she didn't realize she was holding left her lungs in a rush. The weight on her shoulders seemed to decrease notably, a vague "Oh thank god", escaping her lips as she fell back into the chair. 

"One of the bullets grazed his heart and pierced a lung so we had to perform an open heart surgery to remove the bullet. He also had a lot of internal bleeding when other two bullets damaged his intestines and stomach.", Dr. Ross continued, "Unfortunately Mr. Mayor had a poor reaction to the anesthesia which lead to a minor heart attack during the surgery. We got it under control pretty quickly but he needs to be monitored closely for a few days. Any temporary or permanent brain damage due to the blood loss is also possible, but we won't know until he wakes up."

Felicity stared at the doctor, unable to comprehend the situation. "Brain damage", she repeated bluntly, "Heart attack?"

Dr. Ross smiled sadly at her, something close to pity flashing in his eyes. Felicity's relief was cut short as she realized there was no guarantee Oliver would walk out of this. She still could leave this hospital stuck in a world where he just _didn't exist._

"He also struggled against the anesthesiologist so we had to give him a sedative before putting him under. He'll be a little drowsy for a while due to the combined effect. Taking his earlier diagnosed severe PTSD into account, he might react-", he paused, searching for an appropriate word, " _Unpredictably_ to the hospital conditions, people touching him, for instance. We might have to give him something to calm him down so he won't hurt himself in the future, but we'll see how it goes."

Felicity felt overwhelmed due to all the information she was given. She would do ten different kinds of freaking out later but right then she allowed herself to feel grateful that Oliver had survived. He was okay for now, she could work with that, even if it wasn't enough by a long shot.

Moving her eyes from the doctor, she managed a small "Okay" 

Dr. Ross smiled at her again. "Maybe a familiar face will help."

"Can I see him?"

"Yes, he's being moved to the intensive care unit just now. Follow me.", he said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder to guide her to the right direction. "We can discuss his treatment and healing process tomorrow. I know you're eager to be with him. He's incredibly lucky to be alive."

He had no idea.

They walked down the hall to the ICU in silence, only the sound of their footsteps echoing from the walls. Her stomach ached, as if it knew she was not going to like what she'd see. Felicity didn't know what to feel, so she didn't even bother trying to name it. A strange numbness took over her entire body, even more so than when she as waiting and she didn't think that was possible at the time. Apparently it was.

Dr. Ross stopped at the door of a much larger room than the others which she realized to be a VIP room. There was some perks of being the mayor, after all. The door was made of glass so she was able to see inside but a pink-scrubbed nurse was standing in front of the bed so she wasn't able to see Oliver.

She wanted to see him. She _needed_ to see him with her own eyes.

The doctor said something which she ignored, sliding the glass door open for her to enter. Heart pounding, she reached blindly for something, _anything really_ , when her knees shook. She wasn't ready. He would look bad, she knew he would. She wasn't ready to face the reality. If she squeezed her eyes shut tight enough, she could almost imagine this wasn't happening, that they were still laying in their large bed together.

But this was the reality. Oliver would need her and Felicity would give him anything he wanted. She was pretty sure she wouldn't let him out of her sight like, ever again. Finally taking a deep breath, she inched closer to the bed, afraid of what she'd see there.

It was so much worse she had originally thought.

Tears blurred her vision instantly at the sight of him. Oliver lay on his back, arms limp on the sides, his whole form somehow sunken into the mattress, looking smaller than she knew he actually was. Numerous wires and tubes were attached to different machines around the bed, disappearing down the neck of the hospital gown he was changed into. 

Her husband was _not_ small, anything but that. He was strong and fearless, and he had a soul of a hero. He was the one who survived five years of hell and still managed to be the most amazing man she knew. He teased her and annoyed her in the most wonderful ways every day, and he would do anything to keep her save. 

Still, the first word she came up with to describe him at that moment was _small_.

The worst part was the thick tube taped to the corner of his mouth, the electric device humming every few seconds, timing with Oliver's chest's steady rise and fall. His heart monitor beeped more rapidly with his heartbeats which surprisingly did little to calm her down.

The young nurse turned around and gave Felicity a slight smile. "He's still on the ventilator since he's not able to breathe on his own right now. There's also two tubes in the side of his chest to drain any extra fluid from the heart but we're hoping to remove them in a couple of days.", she explained gently, waving her hands at the tubes she was talking about. "A catheter is going to remove urine from the bladder and it's the tube taped on the inside of his thigh. This wire on the back of his hand," she showed her, "is the IV. He'll stay hydrated through it during his time in the ICU."

Only half listening, Felicity quietly moved to the side of his bed. She raised her other hand in an attempt to touch him but she couldn't bring herself to close the distance. She wanted to touch him, she needed to, but his fragile appearence absolutely terrified her. Oliver was the strongest person she'd ever known, not just physically but mentally, and here he was, completely oblivious to the world and to the fact she was even in the same room with him.

His eyes were closed, unmoving behind the lids, the features of his face looking almost relaxed. He wasn't dreaming. 

Her fingertips brushed against the stubble of his cheek, gently at first, but when she noticed he wasn't going to break right there, she cupped his face. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks but she didn't bother wiping her face, knowing it was pointless anyway. 

"Oliver", she heard herself whimper in a voice she didn't recognize. She grabbed Oliver's left hand in a vise grip, which felt oddly cold and clammy. Oliver's hands were always warm. He was warm in general.

"The anesthesia should be wearing off soon", the nurse said, "I'm going to fill up his chart at the nurses' station. Press this button," she pointed at the wire hanging from the ceiling, "if he wakes up or if you need anything else. We have to do a few routine checks for brain damage."

"When", Felicity gritted her teeth.

The nurse's forehead furrowed in confusion as she turned back to her. "Excuse me?" 

" _When_ he wakes up", she repeated in a strained tone, moving her palm flat on Oliver's chest in a protective gesture. "You said if."

The other woman just nodded and smiled softly. "When"

Just focusing on breathing deeply for a few heartbeats, she closed her eyes and rolled her stiff shoulders. It was going to be a long night.

Finally looking around, she noticed the room to be a little fancier than the one where she was two years ago. There was a comfortable-looking couch on the wall next to the door with a flat but relatively small tv. The door to the private bathroom was located to the other wall and the hospital bed itself looked a bit wider than normally.

Her eyes trailed back to Oliver. She traced his eyebrows, nose and dry lips with her fingers slowly, memorising every feature.  If she was honest with herself, she thought for a moment she would lose him. There was still a great chance she could, these surgeries sometimes came with complications, and she couldn't help feeling guilty. Not because of the shooting, she knew there was nothing she could've done to prevent that from happening, but from all the lost time they could've spent together rather than apart.

Felicity hadn't understood what it meant to love someone back then, not really. She had tried to change him, to get him to open up about things he wasn't ready to talk about. That wasn't loving him unconditionally, that was being selfish. He wasn't perfect, neither was she, and it was okay. She had accepted all of him a long time ago, trying to make up for the time they'd lost because she hadn't been ready.

And now there he was, lying on a hospital bed. Felicity wasn't sure she would survive if that bastard caused any permanent damage to Oliver. He could be paralysed, or be a vegetable the rest of his life. Could she unplug him from life support? Would she be that wife who would never be ready to let go?

The guilt would drown her.

Felicity fidgeted on her feet. She reached for the thin blanket covering Oliver's legs, feeling a need to straighten it before running her fingers through his sweaty hair. She knew there was only one thing she could do for him now, be there for him and support him through the recovery. They would make up for the lost time later, she would spend the rest or her life doing just that.

Brushing her knuckles against his cheek again, she sniffled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. "I love you, Oliver", she whispered against his skin. "Please come back to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three might be up next week, I make no promises since I have my final exam on Thursday next week so I'll be reading to that (or at least I'm supposed to..).  
> What you can expect: A lot more Oliver.
> 
> I'm thinking of starting a prompt series sometimes in the future so if you ever feel like suggesting something (or to this story) don't be shy!


	3. Somewhere In Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry (not) for all the angst I'm putting you through :)

The first time Oliver woke up was in the middle of the first night.

Felicity sat wide awake in the dark room on a chair she'd brought right next to Oliver, not wanting to stay all over on the couch on the other side of the room. Even when the couch would've probably been a whole lot more sleepable, she wanted to stay close. Her nerves hadn't really calmed down despite the time she'd already sat there, staring at her husband's still form, silently breathing in and out.

Except that it wasn't him breathing, not really. It was the cube-shaped, white machine next to her forcing air into his lungs at regular intervals which somehow made it worse. The steady rise and fall of Oliver's chest didn't calm her now at all when it has lulled her to sleep so many times she's lost count. This wasn't him breathing on his own, this was a machine keeping him alive because he couldn't do it himself. Oliver couldn't do something as simple as _breathing_ right now because some guy decided to take that away from him. 

Her eyes hurt from all the crying and staying awake. She wouldn't mind a few hours of restful sleep but couldn't close her eyes without seeing the horrors of the day. She was already so tired she feared how she'd survive the next few weeks or so. But she couldn't sleep, not now. Despite knowing how irrational it was, she didn't want to risk him disappearing if she closed her eyes. She was afraid to look away. 

So she stayed awake at 3AM, staring at her husband. Sounded a lot creepier than it actually was.

"It's our first night with just the two of us in weeks, you know", she sighed quietly, "This is not quite how I imagined us spending it, though."

She grabbed his hand between her smaller ones and placed a few small pecks to the back of it before drawing circles on his skin with her fingertips. "I'm sure you didn't either", she continued, "This is not exactly ideal, but we're gonna get through this. We have to, somehow. I don't know how but we'll find a way. We always do, right?", she mumbled and looked up at him. 

He looked peaceful. 

She'd read about talking to comatose patients, that they could hear what you said to them. She wanted to believe Oliver could, too, even when he wasn't exactly in a coma. Not that she'd want him to be. The thought of him hearing her was just a whole lot more comforting than the one where he was alone somewhere else, unaware of everything around him.

Did he dream at all? Did he dream about her, talking to him, making dinner - which should tell him it's a dream since she'd never cook-  anything? Or was it all just blank emptiness with no thoughts whatsoever?

"I imagined us going home early, sneaking out from the party when no one would notice", she nibbled on her bottom lip, "We would sneak out together, order some takeout - maybe chinese or mexican - and we would spend the night watching movies neither of us would really watch. We'd talk about anything, and I would tell you how much I love you, how I'm falling in love with you more and more every day we spend together", she told him, fighting back tears.

"You would say-", she brushed her knuckles over his jaw, "-that you love me more and we'd argue, and it would be so cheesy and sappy and corny but we wouldn't care. I'd tell you to show me how much, and we would-", she stuttered for a moment, "We'd do that thing you wanted to try. You would make me feel safe, and loved, and everything else you've always done. And I'd feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have you as my husband." 

The heart monitor kept beeping its steady rhythm, ventilator humming and his chest rising.

_Beep, hum, beep, rise, beep, hum, beep, fall._

"I do feel like it", Felicity sniffled, "I feel like it every day. I'm so grateful about you and William. I never thought I'd end up being a step-mother to a teenage boy but I wouldn't have it any other way. You don't have to worry about him, we'll do that for you. I called Christopher's parents and they're gonna take care of him until Thea picks him up on her way here. You don't have to worry about me, either. That nice nurse-", she frowned, "-doctor? Staff person? Anyway, she made sure I would be okay, so you can just focus on getting better."

She leaned back on her chair, planning on resting her head for a minute before her neck would start aching, almost missing the way Oliver's eyelids fluttered.

It was over just as quickly as it started but Felicity saw it nonetheless.

"Oliver?", she jumped to stand, now completely vigilant, all exhaustion long gone. He did it again, just a teeny tiny flutter of his lids but it was so much more for Felicity.

It was hope.

"Oliver, hey. Open your eyes, honey", she urged while reaching blindly for the call button for a nurse. As soon as she managed to press it, she was back at his side squeezing his hand more forcefully than she probably should.

Time seemed to freeze when nothing more happened and Felicity felt disappointment wash over her with so much force her chest actually, physically hurt, until his eyes fluttered open ever so slightly.

She didn't dare to breathe.

"Oliver?"

He blinked slowly a few times, so slowly she thought every time his eyes closed he wasn't going to open them again. She watched as his eyes moved around the room for a long time, not really focusing on anything particular longer than a second. She squeezed his hand again to prompt him to look at her.

He didn't squeeze back nor did he look at her. 

_Why wasn't he looking at her?_

The door of the room opened with a quiet whoosh and a night nurse stepped inside. "Is everything alright, Mrs. Que-", she began but stopped on her tracks when her eyes landed on Oliver. "I'm going to page his doctor."

"Oliver", Felicity whispered again, suddenly unable to form more words. She cupped his face gently and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, hoping that the connection would make a difference but he continued to blink and stare at the ceiling drowsily. The breathing machine kept pumping air into his lungs and the fact that Oliver didn't seem to mind at all concerned her.

He didn't seem to even know she was right there next to him. 

"It's Felicity", she rasped and when there was still no change, she stole a quick glance at the nurse who was currently writing something down on his chart in a hurry. "Why-", she swallowed, "Why isn't he responding?"

"It could be a number of things, Mrs. Queen", she replied absently without looking up, "I'm gonna run a few routine checks before Dr. Ross arrives.", she said and finally flipped the chart closed.

She rounded the bed, taking a pen light from her pocket and flicking it on. "Mr. Queen," she spoke in a loud voice which made Felicity flinch but Oliver didn't move a muscle. "Mr. Queen, can you hear me?", she questioned while flashing the light in front of Oliver's eyes. "Can you follow the light?"

Oliver closed his eyes again which caused the nurse to open the other with her thumb and flash the light again. "Mr. Queen, you need to focus." she spoke louder, "Can you focus on my voice for a minute and then you can go back to sleep?"

The fact that Oliver didn't react to the nurse touching him _terrified_ her. Oliver didn't like _anyone_ touching him easily when he's in a weak and vulnerable state even after all these good years of his and there he was, laying still without as much as a glance at her direction.

Which meant that he was either _really_ high on drugs or there indeed was some brain damage.

Felicity could only hope it was the first.

"Oliver?", she tried in a shaky voice, brushing her fingers back and forth the length of his arm in a calming motion. "Can you hear me? Could you squeeze my fingers if you do?"

He didn't.

Another person entered the room who Felicity recognized to be Dr. Ross, the surgeon who operated on Oliver.

"What's his status?", he asked the other woman, who quickly filled him in on Oliver's condition. They both discussed something which Felicity didn't bother keeping up with. Instead, she searched Oliver's eyes for something, _anything_ , when they opened again and darted around the room once again as if he was seeing it for the first time. 

_Beep, hum, beep, rise, beep, hum, beep, fall._

"It could be just confusion and remnants of the anesthesia", she heard Dr. Ross saying.

Felicity really needed it to be that. _Please let it be just that._

"You're at Starling General", she blurted, "You're in a hospital, Oliver. You were shot, remember? It's Felicity, I'm here with you", she whimpered, gripping his arm to prove a point. "Thea is on her way here now and William will join us too. Remember William?", she babbled just for the sake of doing something. "I don't know where John is, I haven't been in touch with him but I'm sure he knows. John always knows."

Then those blue eyes turned to her.

"Dr. Ross?", she peeped. The man in question was by her side in a second, flashing his own flashlight in front of Oliver's eyes.

"He recognizes you voice, keep talking", he encouraged, "Both pupils are equal and reactive to light."

Oliver's eyes weren't really focused on hers, more to her direction. They weren't focused on anything, really. He was looking for the voice, she realized. He blinked again as if his eyelids weighed more than they actually did.

"Umm-", she wet her lips and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, "You looked incredibly good in that suit, by the way, I don't think I got a chance to tell you that."

The two doctors glanced at her with amusement. Felicity raised an eyebrow and shot a pointed look back at them. They told her to speak, she did. _From all subjects she just had to choose an embarrassing one._

"It's a shame they had to cut it", she continued anyway while Dr. Ross hovered over them and the nurse wrote Oliver's vitals down. She caressed his face and kept her eyes locked on his as she interlaced their fingers and squeezed his gently, giving him a soft smile.  "I really liked that suit. It wasn't the new one, was it?"

"Mr. Queen?", Dr. Ross questioned again, "Can you see her?"

Then she felt a small tug of her fingers, so slight she would've missed it if she wasn't so focused on feeling it. It was barely a twitch of his fingers against hers, but it was enough for her. Her smile grew as tears blurred her vision.

"He squeezed my hand", she announced maybe a little too enthusiastically to the doctors. Since when was Oliver just _squeezing_ her hand concidered a victory, she didn't know. Then again she didn't really care. Oliver was looking at her and squeezing her fingers and it was _freaking huge_.

"Hi," she whispered feeling overwhelmed when his eyes finally found hers, "I love you so much." She wanted him to hear it while he could.

"Mr. Queen, can you focus for a minute?", Dr. Ross called out loudly to get his attention. Oliver's gaze wandered away, leaving her craving more, to the other two in the room before focusing back to Felicity. Growing exhaustion was now visible in his eyes as he looked straight at her and squeezed again.

"He's getting more conscious", Dr. Ross said, "Both drugs are wearing off like they should. We have to start the morphine drip soon or he's going to be in a lot of pain in a minute", he nodded to the nurse, who wrote something down on a post-it. 

Oliver blinked up at her for a moment longer, until recognition dawned on his face. Felicity couldn't help the way her eyes swam in tears at the look on his face, silently begging her for something. "It's okay", she whispered softly, placing a kiss to his cheek, him closing his eyes for a moment when her lips touched skin. "I love you so much. Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up. I promise." 

With that, his eyes fluttered shut again and Felicity knew he'd heard her. 

She couldn't stop the tears as they flowed freely from her eyes. Oliver had woken up. He was still in the ventilator and hadn't reacted to the doctors but he had recognized her. They had never needed words to communicate anyway. Oliver had been awake for a few minutes, he'd seen her, and he knew she was there by his side.

That made her feel a little better.

* * *

  
Felicity spent the rest of the night watching some quiz on mute from the tiny tv, just for the sake of putting her mind on something. Anything to keep herself occupied before she spiraled out of control into a full panic mode. She was bone-deep exhausted, the kind when even ten cups of coffee wouldn't save her. That of course paled compared to the way Oliver must've felt.

A male nurse stopped by to hang a bag of clear liquid on the pole next to the bed, that must've been the morphine Dr. Ross requested earlier. He didn't say much, just letting her know what he was doing,  but on the other hand neither did she. She was half asleep anyway at the time so she didn't really listen.

She had almost just fallen asleep in the early hours of next morning with her head resting on the bed, when a sudden noise made her jump so hard she almost fell of the chair. She scrambled upright in a rush when for a moment she didn't understand what was going on but stopped abruptly when she located the source.

On the floor was a plant pot of some kind, splintered in hundreds of tiny pieces of glass all over the room. Frowning, she quickly turned to check on Oliver, who was staring right at her eyes wide open with an unreadable expression.

"Did you do that?", she questioned with a small smile she couldn't contain tugging the corners of her mouth. Oliver blinked at her and Felicity realised he wasn't exactly in a position to answer. "Well, you scared the crap outta me", she murmured before standing up, brushing the short strands of hair back and leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead. "Do you need anything?"

He shifted the hand she was still holding with great effort, clearly trying to do something Felicity couldn't understand. She frowned down at him and rubbed slow circles on his upper arm. Frustration was clearly visible in his eyes as he raised his forearm a few inches off the mattress until it began to shake from the exertion, his eyes glistening. The sight was absolutely heartbreaking.

She could only imagine what he must've felt like. 

Felicity took his hand between her own and raised it all the way up, holding his palm against her cheek. His dry, rough fingers moved over her skin with such gentleness her heart fluttered. He cupped the side of her face with one palm as Felicity felt a rush of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes at the gesture. 

She sniffled quietly before smiling down at him. "I really love you, Oliver", she whimpered, her own voice thick with emotion. She felt Oliver's fingers tremble for a moment when he brushed his knuckles over her face softly, unable to tell her the same but his blue eyes said it all.

_I love you too._

His gaze trailed upwards together with his tender touch. The look of adoration slowly vanished as sadness filled his expression after a second and Felicity was just about to ask about it when she felt the light brush of his fingertips against the bruise on her forehead.

He withdrew his hand until it dropped back to the bed with a thud. She could practically see him retreating into himself even when he didn't move a muscle, eyes turning blank before she could stop it from happening.

"Hey, no", she shook her head, grabbing his hand again. Oliver looked away, which made her chest tighten to the point of pain. He wasn't looking at her, his eyes glued to the gray ceiling. There was nothing in his eyes anymore, nothing at all. 

He was detaching himself, she realized. She'd seen him do it many times before, but it never got any easier to deal with. He was blaming himself, remembering her part of the previous evening's events, how she could've died because she had tried to protect him. Felicity searched her mind for something to stop his train of thought. Of course he would blame himself from everything. She should've thought about that sooner.

"Oliver, look at me", she said softly and put his palm flat against her chest, over her heart. "I'm right here."

Felicity willed herself not to cry when he eyed the hand holding his warily for a moment and finally looked back up at her, making her breath caught in her lungs. Those beautiful, blue eyes, which had gazed at her numerous times so lovingly, looked so incredibly tired, filled with deep sorrow.

"I'm okay", she said with a smile that felt as forced as it probably looked, considering the disbelief in his gaze. "Really, it's just a bump" _and a slight concussion but he didn't need to know that_. "It's so you to be worrying about me when you're the one laying in a hospital bed.", she attempted a chuckle, smoothing down the slight frown off his face.

Oliver just stared back, blinking.

This communication thing wasn't really working.

"I should call the nurse, though", she shook her head and raised to press the button, but stopped on her tracks when she felt him tugging her fingers.

"You know I have to, Oliver", she sighed as much as she didn't want to. Was a few minutes of alone time with you husband too much to ask? 

Oliver gestured down with his eyes before locking them with hers again.

"I know," she murmured, "That thing must really suck, both metaphorically and literally, but I think you need it to strenghten your lungs or something."

He glared at her.

"As much as I'd like to hear your voice I still think your health is more important", she continued with a small shrug, before frowning at her next thought. "Unless you meant something else with that little stare of yours? You know, your eyes are not as expressive as you'd like to think they are."

Oliver blinked.

"Did that mean something?", she wonder aloud, which earned her another blink. "I've seen it in movies, when people communicate through blinking. We could try that..", she murmured more to herself. "Okay, one blink for no, two for yes?"

He blinked twice.

"Was that the answer or did you just have something in your eye, cause it's kinda hard to tell if-", she waved a hand when he blinked twice again, "Oh, it was? Good, great, we've found a way to communicate", she beamed to herself, grinning, and sat down on the chair. "That also sounded like some sort of bad line from an alien movie or something, which this obviously is not."

Felicity stole a quick glance at the hallway and pulled her second-day hair into a loose bun on the top of her head. Oliver followed her movement with his eyes and for a moment she poundered if he didn't move because it hurt or if he just didn't feel the need to.

"Okay first of all," she started, "Are you in any pain at all?"

Oliver hesitated for a moment as he blinked once.

"Don't lie to me, mister", she told him, her smile fading. "If you are, you need to tell me."

He blinked twice.

"Was that a 'yes, I am in pain' or 'yes, I will tell you'?", she narrowed her eyes at him. "This is really not working ."

Oliver rolled his eyes but she could already see fatigue on his features.

"I'm going to call that nurse", she decided when his eyes closed for a moment, probably to regain some strenght. "You don't have to stay awake much longer after that."  
Felicity got up and pressed the call button. When her hand slid away from his, she was surprised to notice he didn't fight the lost contact at all, concern raising its ugly head instantly.

"Oliver?", she called out quietly, "Are you okay?"

She did a quick once-over for discomfort over his face but what she saw was somehow even worse. He looked distracted, silently gazing to the hallway where people walked back and forth due to the busy morning in the hospital. 

"Oliver," she tried to get his attention but it was as if he didn't even hear her which set off the alarm bells in her head. Oliver was always aware of his surroundings, it wasn't like him to space out like this.

"Hey," she grabbed his face between her hands, "Earth to Oliver"

His eyes were unfocused, as if he was somewhere else entirely. She considered shaking him a little but decided against it. She wouldn't risk hurting him any more.

"You know, you're kinda scaring me", she swallowed hard when he still didn't respond, "So if you just want some space or something, please just look at me and I will give you that."

His eyelids drooped a little and Felicity was already opening her mouth to start calling for help when they widened back open abruptly as he flinched and he blinked a few times. His eyes found hers quickly, almost panic-stricken, until he stared back at her with a strange expression, something she'd never seen directed to her. She pulled her hands back like they'd been burned. 

It was the same look he gave to the people he put arrows in, like she was his target. His face was distorted with rage, eyes blazing as his nostrils flared. The look was over in a few seconds before she could analyze it further, but it still left her heart pounding.

Then he looked just confused, probably because of the look of fright she could feel frozen on her face. "Oliver?", she asked cautiously, to which he blinked twice with ease. Did he even notice what just happened, whatever that was?

"Are you okay?", she asked warily, unsure where to place the hands that were currently raised awkwardly in the air between them. Oliver eyed them his expression mixture of concern and guilt - just what Felicity was trying to prevent. She winced and dropped her arms just as the door opened and the nurse who was treating him when he first woke up, entered. 

"Good morning", the female doctor smiled warmly at them both. "I see you're a little more awake than the last time we met, Mr. Mayor. I'm Dr. Amy Jensen, but you can just call me Amy." she told them as she closed the door behind her. Glancing at the floor, she raised an eyebrow before looking at the couple. "What happened here?"

Felicity met her halfway with a tight smile, cutting right to the chase and pulling her to the side. "Something weird just happened."

"I can see that", the nurse pursed her lips and shook his head, gaze still on the little shards.

"No, not that," Felicity frowned, "That was just Oliver trying to wake me up or something, I think. Even though he could've chosen a little easier way, like touching my arm or something. I'm a light sleeper everywhere else but home, especially in a chair like that. They're not really comfortable, let me tell you-"

"Whoa," the nurse interrupted and placed her hands on Felicity's upper arms. "Calm down, tell me what happened."

"He spaced out," she said in a loud whisper, not wanting Oliver to hear her "Like, eyes completely blank, didn't respond to me for a few seconds -kind of spacing out. Then for a second he looked at me and there was this crazy look in his eyes, like the one when he's-", she bit her tongue, "When he's _angry_ at someone. Like really angry. He's never looked at me like that before."

The nurse nodded to herself as they both turned to glance at Oliver who stared at them from a distance with concern. He looked completely normal now, and she would've been lying if she said she wasn't freaking out at all.

"Okay", she nurse finally said. "Let me just check his chart", she said as she reached under the bed and pulled out the hardcover chart.

"That's weird," she murmured after awhile. "Who was the last nurse who treated him?"

"He didn't introduce himself, he just swung by a few hours ago", Felicity knitted her brows. "Why?"

"He didn't sign the prescription for the morphine that's obviously been brought in, that's all", she explained distractly as he examined the bag in question. After awhile she looked at her with a smile that had to be fake. "I'm going to page Dr. Ross and we're gonna run a few tests."

Felicity had a bad feeling about this.

"I'm going to replace the morphine bag, though", she continued and moved to squeeze the thin tube closed so any more liquid wouldn't go through before she managed to remove the whole thing. Instead of just putting it on the table with everything else, she took an empty plastic bag and dropped it in quickly.

"What's happening?", a familiar male voice called out from the door as Dr. Ross _ran_ inside from the hallway. Amy murmured something to him which she wasn't able to hear.

Felicity was officially _freaking out._

"What's going on?", she asked her voice a lot smaller than intended, squeezing Oliver's arm who was just calmly,  _too calmly_ , observing the scene in front of him. His eyes were glazed over, his whole face looking somehow wrong and at the same time awfully familiar. "Oliver?"

Dr. Ross crossed the room in a couple of strides, taking the pen light out again. "Shit, his pupils are dilated. Dr. Jensen, take a blood sample, I'm taking him to a head CT.", he said and turned to Felicity. "Dr. Jensen told me you said something happened?"

"I- I don't know, one minute he was there and the next he wasn't", she fidgeted with her hands, "What's happening to him?", Felicity asked again in a shaky voice. _Why wasn't no one telling her anything?_

"I don't know, Mrs. Queen", Dr. Ross admitted his head bowed, "But I'm going to figure that out."

* * *

  
They kicked her out. 

They _actually_ kicked her out , telling her she couldn't go with Oliver or even sit in the empty patient room while he was in the CT, which could apparently take a while. She had pulled the I'm-the-mayor's-wife card in a desperate attempt to regain some control of the situation, effectively getting the stink eye and the speech how everyone must follow the hospital policy no matter who you were. At least Oliver was treated as an emergency case, which meant he was moved up in the line to  the scan. 

So, Amy guided her to the lobby and suggested she'd get something to eat.

Making a swift detour to the cafeteria to check if they sold anything eatable, Felicity strolled through the hallways just to burn off nervous energy. The hospital was more crowded than last night, people walking past her, doctors living their everyday lives.

A middle-aged man stopped her to ask something she didn't quite understand and was just about to voice her thoughts when it hit her; she was wearing the scrubs, these people thought she was a doctor.

For a moment she couldn't think. The man stared down at her with kind, expecting eyes, as if she could make everything better. It reminded her so much of the look Oliver always gave her when he asked her for intel, or for anything really. The memory struck her with its full force and Felicity crossed her arms and hugged herself tight, forgetting for a moment how to breathe. She saw his lips moving but couldn't hear even her own thoughts as the picture of Oliver remained in her mind. 

Then she was moving, she couldn't recall what she'd said to the man before bolting, if anything. She focused on moving her tingling legs, partly covering her face with her hands to regain some dignity as she felt hot tears burning in her eyes. She leaned on the wall for support, took a long, deep breath, then rounded the corner and hid in a supply closet. There. Anyone didn't know she was there, they wouldn't follow her. She was out of sight. That was all that mattered.

God, she was really getting tired of these pointless moments where she lost all sensible thought and acted out of instinct. She pressed her back against the door and slid down on the floor as a small sob left her. She couldn't do this, how was anyone supposed to do this. 

She cried, her chest growing tight as bile rose in her throat. She clutched her hands into fists, her fingers wrapped around themselves so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

She allowed herself a minute to sit there, wallow in self-pity until she took a deep breath, swallowed hard and rose back onto her wobbly legs. "Get a grip, Felicity", she murmured aloud and dabbed her eyes, careful not to smudge the remaining makeup any more. She forced a public mask to fall into place before opening the door and heading to the lobby.

When she reached the waiting room, she ran into a wall of muscle, quite literally. 

"Felicity", she heard a familiar voice say. Looking up, she found herself face to face with her favorite ex-soldier.

"John", she sighed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him at the same time he leaned down to hug her.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, I had to make an appearence as the Green Arrow last night and after that they wouldn't let me in because I'm not immediate family.", Diggle explained sounding apologetic.

"It's fine", Felicity mumbled into his chest quietly.

"It's not," he pulled back, "You shouldn't have had to deal with this alone."

Felicity felt the lump in his throat growing at his words, making it hard to swallow. "There's nothing you could've done about it", she shrugged.

John lead her to one of the chairs in the lobby, keeping his hand on her shoulder. "The police has been swarming around the hospital for the past few hours. They're gonna need your statement soon.", he started warily, his tone a mix of concern and fatigue. She wasn't exactly sure she was ready to talk about what happened just yet. 

"I know," she sighed, rolling her stiff shoulders, "I'm just glad they haven't found me yet."

"How is Oliver?"

"He's been asleep most of the time", she attempted a smile, "He woke up a couple of times but we haven't talked. He's still on the breathing machine and heavily drugged, so..", she trailed off.

John nodded and looked down at her figure, a slight frown appearing on his face. "You look like crap."

"Thanks", she said flatly and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"When did you last eat?"

She sighed her eyes closed, stifling a yawn.

"Or slept?"

"I don't need babysitting, John", her expression hardened as she shook her head. 

"Oliver will kill me if I let you exhaust yourself", he reasoned.

She huffed out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, he could strangle you with all the tubes he's attached to, who knows."

"Felicity-"

"Just let it be, okay?", she finally turned to him and bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I'm fine. As fine as I can be."

John pursed his lips and held up his hands in surrender. 

"It's just-", she swallowed hard, staring at the floor, "Everything seems to fall apart at once. You haven't seen him, John, it's really bad."

He was quiet for a long time before giving a pat on her back and getting up. "I'm starving, care to join me in the cafeteria for a few minutes?"

She knew what he was doing, but didn't find the energy to argue. She just nodded quietly and followed him, grabbing the length of his arm for support.

The cafeteria was relatively large, a few people sitting here and there. Some of the doctors apparently were on a lunch break considering all the brightly colored scrubs she could see in the room, mixed with normal people and a few patients who were in condition to join their families for an early lunch. She wished Oliver would too.

"What's with the outfit, by the way?", she heard John ask ahead of her.

"Someone gave it to me, figured I wouldn't be that comfortable in my dress", she said, leaving out the part where it was completely covered in blood.

They moved to the line, taking a tray when Felicity saw a familiar face approaching from a distance. 

"Mrs. Queen?", the girl gave her a sad smile.

"Danielle", she sighed, hesitating only for a moment before pulling other woman into a hug. She could feel Diggle observing the scene with interest beside them.

"Mrs. Queen, how-"

"Felicity", she said as they pulled back, "Call me Felicity. I think we're past formalities."

"Felicity," Danielle nodded. Felicity looked down at her and noticed her wearing similar scrubs. "Did he-", she twisted her hands in front of her awkwardly, "Did he make it?"

"He did," she gave her a genuine smile, "For now at least. Thanks to you."

Danielle shook her head but let out a breath of relief nonetheless. "I'm so glad to hear that."

"I'm sorry for leaving you there like that after all that happened, I just needed to-", Felicity started but fell silent when the girl placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You needed to be with you husband. You have nothing to apologize for."

Diggle cleared his throat behind her loudly.  "Oh. Danielle, this is John Diggle. John,", she waved her hand between them, "This is Danielle. She saved Oliver's life."

"Hi," John shook her hand before studying her skeptically. "You're the surgeon?"

"Oh, no," Danielle blushed, glancing at Felicity "I'm the- Uh..."

"She was at the city hall", Felicity said quietly, hugging herself tight. John shot her a apologetic look before turning back to the other woman and nodding.

"Nice to meet you, Danielle."

"You too."

Felicity didn't want to think about the other night. As much as she'd like to catch up with Danielle, that also meant talking about Oliver. She would connect her to Oliver almost dying for the rest of her life, she'd bring back bad memories. She shifted from one foot to the other before squaring her shoulders and grabbing a mug, wordlessly telling the other two the conversation was over. Maybe some other time she'd be ready to discuss everything with Danielle and thank her properly, when Oliver wasn't barely hanging on.

"Anyway, I have a surgery." Danielle stepped back, sensing her discomfort. "I mean _I_ don't have a surgery but my patient does. Lung transplant. Which I have to attend. Because it's my job", she added while slowly retreating, "Which starts in half an hour and I still have to scrub in. Scrubbing in means getting ready. Washing hands, and all. I don't know if people know what it means. But that's not the point here. I just want to say, good luck."

"Thanks, you too. And to your patient", John smiled at her when Felicity didn't say anything. They watched as she quickly left the cafeteria, glancing back at them every once in a while. "She's even more awkward than you." John stated.

They found a table from the corner of the room and sat down facing each other. Felicity felt John's eyes on her as she fiddled with her cup of coffee. He was watching her, which she found extremely unsettling.

"You know I can see you staring, right?", she said without looking up.

"I'm worried about you."

Felicity felt tears gathering to the corners of her eyes. She crossed her legs, took a sip of the coffee and grimaced. "I'm not the one lying in a hospital bed", she repeated the same words she'd already said to Oliver. Why were people worried about _her_ when Oliver was the one they needed to take care of?

"Then why are you here and not there?", Diggle leaned forward to take a bite of his sandwich.

She considered changing the subject but decided against it. John deserved to know everything. "He was taken to a CT", she closed her eyes.

"Is something wrong?"

"Honestly, I don't know", she admitted, "The doctors acted all weird and I'm kinda freaking out."

John narrowed his eyes and straightened on the chair. "What happened, Felicity?"

"He just," she jiggled her foot, keeping her eyes on the mug in front of her, "He was there, and then he wasn't. Like switching the lights off. Just like that," she snapped her fingers, "Gone."

Diggle stared at her. "I don't understand." 

"He spaced out, John", she gripped the arm of the chair until her knuckles were white. "He looked at me like I was the enemy. For a moment I honestly though the only reason he didn't get up from that bed and attack me was because he physically couldn't."

"Okay," he lowered the sandwich, "Come again?"

Finally locking her eyes with his, she shifted uncomfortably as a cold shiver ran down her back at the memory. "There's something wrong with him", she said in a shaky voice, "And even they didn't know what it was. He looked at me with this I'm-gonna-put-an-arrow-in-you look for a second and then he was back to normal. I don't know what it was, John."

"Did you say something to upset him, or..?", he raised a brow, tilting his head to the side.

"No", she frowned almost offended, "Even if I did, he would never look at me like that. He looked _murderous_."

"You're right," John returned to his food, "I'm sorry."

Felicity dismissed his apology with a little wave of her hand. "Question is, why did he do that? I mean, what if he didn't just drop the pot on the floor to wake me up?", she voiced her fear in a quiet voice, fiddling with her wedding band. "What if he was aiming at me?"

"What pot?", he frowned.

"Never mind,", she waved her hand again, "My point is, there's something wrong. Dr. Ross said his pupils were dilated, which means it's the brain, right?"

"Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves," John placed a hand over hers on the table. "We still don't know what it was so let's just wait for the scan, okay?"

Felicity bit her lip and nodded. 

"When was he supposed to come out?", he asked.

"Any minute now", she said glancing at the clock.

When they were ready, John returned the dishes and Felicity threw her barely touched coffee down the drain. She was eager to see her husband again, so they decided to go and see if Oliver was out yet.

They were surprised to see Dr. Ross talking to a couple of police officers in front of Oliver's room. He was pointing something out to him from a piece of paper with a shocked expression which did little to loosen the invisible fingers wrapped around Felicity's throat. Whatever was happening, it was enough to report to the police, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

"Dr. Ross?", Felicity walked up to them, making everyone fall silent immediately. She tried to ignore the small voice in her head telling her something was indeed very, _very_ wrong. Instead, she focused her eyes on Oliver's sleeping form in the room.

The breathing tube was gone, finally, and it was replased with a simple oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.

"Miss Smoak, could you come with us, please?", one of the officers approached her, glancing at Diggle suggestively.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of John," she crossed her arms and looked back at the other woman evenly. "He's family."

"Fine", she nodded, "I'm Detective Sanders from the SCPD. These gentlemen are Officers Garrett and Adams", she introduced and extended a hand which Felicity took with reluctance. 

"Is everything alright with my husband?", Felicity asked.

"Could you tell us the same you told Dr. Jensen?", the detective took out a small recorder, looking at her expectantly.

"What's going on?", John asked his tone suspicious as he took a step forward, placing himself slightly in front of Felicity.

Detective Sanders turned to him with forced patience. "If Miss Smoak could just-"

"It's Mrs. Queen", Felicity snapped, "And I won't tell you anything before you tell me what this is about."

Dr. Ross stepped forward, offering her an apologetic smile. "His scans were clear, no signs of bleeding or swelling in the brain, which could've caused the reaction you described to Dr. Jensen earlier."

Felicity looked back and forth from Dr. Ross to Detective Sanders. "There's a but coming."

"But," he continued and bowed his head for a moment, "There was something odd in the blood sample."

"It wasn't anything Starling General's technology could identify", detective Sanders explained. "So they sent the sample to Dr. Caitlin Snow in Central City as an anonymous patient." _What a hell was going on?_

The other woman sighed deeply before handing the white sheet over to her. "These came from S.T.A.R Laboratories a few minutes ago."

She couldn't believe it. She saw the results right in front of her in big, bold letters, explaining everything. It was so obvious but at the same time she didn't even think about that possibility. But how? How could something like this happen, who would-

Then it hit her. The morphine. The nurse wasn't even _a_ nurse.

_Vertigo._


	4. (Everything I Do) I Do It For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver deals with the aftermath of vertigo and discusses the past events with Felicity, who makes a shocking revelation about the shooter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. This was supposed to be uploaded ages ago but I graduated last week and I was really busy right before and after that. But important is that it's here now, right? Better late than never!
> 
> I didn't find a good stop to cut this, so it's 10k+ words right here, give or take :)  
> (Also, I remember promising a longer chapter to one of you.. Recognize yourself?)

Felicity bit her fingernails as she stared down at the results, squeezing the paper so hard between her palm her hand shook. She felt her head shaking from side to side as she wanted to deny the information apparent on the sheet even though deep down she knew it was the truth. There was no denying it. The symptoms fit perfectly.

"Vertigo is a strong hallucinogen, in some cases even deadly" Dr. Ross started calmly when he thought it would be safe to open his mouth, considering the way Felicity was shooting daggers at his way.  "The narcotic causes great addiction and hallucinations within a single dose, making its user disorientated and behave rather unpredictably."

Felicity nodded numbly. Diggle grabbed her arm and squeezed tightly. She squeezed back.

"The drug was first discovered about seven years ago from the Glades, but it was supposely destroyed by the Hood back then. Apparently there was some left."

Felicity stared at Dr. Ross' lips moving rapidly. She let him talk, telling them everything about Vertigo, about it's use and consequences. He told them how it affected the brain, thinking and how it could've possibly affect Oliver. Little did he know, as he talked, that she already knew everything about the drug. It wasn't their first rodeo.

"I can't tell you how it exactly reacts with all the other sedatives and painkillers Mr. Queen's been treated with, but we're prepared for elevated blood pressure, agitation and at your husband's case violence, and possible convulsions."

She swallowed hard. She couldn't say she've already heard it all. Felicity Smoak, the founder and CEO of Helix Dynamics, shouldn't know anything about the underground drugs. But Overwatch did, she actually found out about all the side effects herself from her searches and from past experience, but none of these people knew that, except for Diggle. And that didn't really matter.

At some point she lost interest to keep up with the man, and walked past him to enter the room. She needed reassurance that Oliver was going to be okay. Dr. Ross was not helping. 

"I don't recommed you do that", she heard detective Sanders calling after her but she ignored the warning.

To her surprise, Oliver was awake.

"Hey," Felicity whispered as she closed the door. "I thought you'd be asleep."

Oliver rolled his head slowly to the side to look at her, which made Felicity want to jump up and down. His eyes were narrowed but open as he blinked at her for a moment, quietly breathing _on his own_ , the oxygen mask fogging slightly every exhale. 

"It's good to see you a little more lucid", she circled the bed and ran her hand over his leg before settling to his arm. "And it's good to see you without that awful tube. It's always good to see you in general."

When her palm was only and inch away from his face, Oliver's hand surged forward in a fraction of a second - so quickly she would've been impressed even if he wasn't on ten kinds of drugs right now - and grabbed her wrist in mid-air, squeezing _hard._

A surprised yelp escaped her mouth. When Oliver only increased the death grip on her arm, she felt her heart racing as she searched his face for something. She knew this was the drugs acting because he would rather hang himself than ever hurt her intentionally, but at that moment she couldn't help the lump in her throat growing when she saw what the criminals of Star City did: the vigilante.

She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ to snap him out of it but couldn't let out a sound when she didn't see the Oliver she knew. This wasn't even the Green Arrow, this was something else. She saw the Hood, the man who was forced into a weapon, who left a trail of bodies behind him, staring back at her. He wasn't seeing his wife right then, he would never grab her like this. 

Her lungs seized in horror when she realized there was no predicting what Oliver could do.

She laid her fingers slowly on top of his, which were squeezing her arm to the point of pain. She wasn't scared for herself. This was a hospital, for godsakes, Oliver couldn't do much damage when there was a bunch of police officers just outside the door. No, she was terrified for him, what he'd do with himself if he ever hurt her, even under the influence. It would _destroy_ him. He wouldn't recover. He wouldn't be able to live with himself after that. 

Gently tugging at his fingers to get them to loosen their grip on her, she observed the look on Oliver's face for anything indicating he would snap. She needed to be careful with this, or the situation could escalate quickly. His gaze fell on her smaller hand resting on top of his, his face distorted with rage before he slowly looked back up at her.

Felicity knew she'd made a mistake when their eyes met. 

In a split second his other hand rose from the mattress and before she could try to counter it - as if she could - he had his long fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. Her own hand grabbed the length of his arm in reaction, eyes wide as she stared into his wild ones.

"Oliver", she rasped as hard as she could just as his fingers tightened, momentarily cutting off her airway. His nostrils flared slightly and he only increased the pressure. "Honey", she choked as tears sprang to her eyes, blood pounding loudly in her ears. 

He faltered at the nickname, granting Felicity a second to take in a gulp of air. Hesitation flashed in his eyes for a moment like he was trying to fight against whatever made him think he needed to target her. He looked down where his palm was resting on top of the soft skin of her neck. The grip on her loosened just a bit when his face softened slightly, as if he was coming to a conclusion that there indeed was something wrong with the situation, something wrong with _him_.

"Stop", she mouthed when the limited air supply begun to take its toll on her, but Oliver didn't let her go. He looked from her face to his own hand around her throat and back to her face again, poundering his options. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, the sight of Oliver looking at her with confused eyes slightly blurring around the edges. She wasn't going to last much longer. He was taking too long to decide weather or not he should release her. She needed air _now_. 

"Oliver!", a harsh voice called from the door just as her lungs started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Oliver flinched violently, and she saw the moment he was pulled back to whatever hallucination he was having. His whole body tensed - like a predator just before attacking its prey - and his eyes turned furious once again.

In a split second she was spinned around until her back was pressed tightly against his chest, his forearm wrapped around her neck. He brought his other hand to other side of her head, impossibly increasing the pressure. She could feel his rapid breaths against the skin on the back of her head as he held her in place. 

He was going to snap her neck, she realized. 

Then Diggle was there to pry Oliver's fingers from her throat before she really even understood what had almost just happened. Taking in gulps of air, she fell down to the floor coughing violently. John held both of Oliver's arms down on the bed as he struggled against him and mumbled something unidentifiable, possibly in Russian, keeping his eyes on her.

She stared up at him in shock, crawling backwards away from his reach as she slowly raised her hand to touch her neck where his fingers had been wrapped around just a few seconds ago. 

"Mr. Queen, calm down or we will sedate you", another male voice shouted somewhere from her left but it was as if Oliver didn't hear it. He _headbutted_ Diggle, who's grip on him loosened due to the moment of disorientation. Oliver swung his arm at her direction, thankfully only hitting air. His attempt was cut short when he hissed in pain and fell back on the mattress heavily, curling into a ball.

Felicity took in a sharp breath, instantly worrying if he'd teared his stitches. She got up and took a quick step forward but was stopped by John stepping in front of her. 

"Get out of my way", she said between gritted teeth her voice raspy.

"No, Felicity, he-"

"This isn't him", she snapped and pushed past him, "Oliver?"

Two large men, who she identified as security, had him pinned down on the bed as his eyes darted around the room wildly before focusing on her. Oliver had a look in his eyes she'd seen before, but not on him, or on a person for that matter. It was the look she'd seen on cornered animals when they were preparing for an attack as their last defence, wild, not even knowing what people were. It didn't belong on his face and it scared her.

"It's okay," she said as she slowly approached him. "It's the Vertigo in your system, it's making you see things that aren't real. They're not real, Oliver."

She had never been afraid of Oliver, she still wasn't because this wasn't her Oliver. Her Oliver was gentle and loving, and the man she had her eyes locked with didn't look like that at all. This man was wild, looking up at her with an expression mixture of confusion and fear, like he'd already realized what he had just done. 

He was breathing heavily and for a moment she wondered if the drug numbed pain, because there was no way he was able to move around that much otherwise. Dr. Ross appeared somewhere from the side where Oliver didn't see him with a syringe and injected him with it.

"It's okay", she continued to whisper, watching as his twisted face relaxed as he slumped against the cushions, eyelids starting to droop. "It's okay. You're okay."

When a small whimper escaped deep from his throat, she had to bit her tongue to stop herself from sobbing out loud. She wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them, to hold him tight and tell him everything would be okay but the truth was, she didn't know if it would. If _he_ would. 

A security guard pulled Oliver's wrists and ankles through soft cuffs, restraining him to the bed. Felicity opened her mouth to protest but closed it when she realized she didn't really have a say about it. Oliver had already attacked once, who was to say he wouldn't again. It didn't matter she didn't blame him, of course she didn't, they were just thinking about her safety.

"Do not take these off yourself, Mrs. Queen", the guard raised his head to look at her, "It's for your own good."

Felicity nodded and bit her lip. The man looked unconvinced but then again she didn't really care what he thought.

"Are you okay? Do you need something?", Diggle asked beside her, gently squeezing her shoulder.

"Yes, and no, I'm good." She nodded her head, maybe a little too frantically considering the doubtful expression on his face at her answer.

"Okay, I'm gonna give Lyla a call and inform the A.R.G.U.S that vertigo is back in town", he offered after a small pause, gesturing to the hall. "Just be careful."

"Actually," she said and John stopped on his tracks, turning back to her with question. "Could you call Thea too and tell her that-", she paused and looked down her hands, not sure what he actually should tell her.

"I'll give her an update", John nodded.

Felicity gave him a tight smile. "Thanks."

When everyone had left, she returned to Oliver, who was still moving his head from side to side. She hugged herself tight. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to get better and return home soon. 

"Oliver, it's okay", she whispered and hesitantly covered his clentching and unclentching palm with hers. The sight of him fighting his own demons was heartbreaking. Despite the sedative he was given, his face was twisted and jaw clentched. Vertigo was known to show people their worst fear. What was Oliver going through this time?

"I'm sorry I didn't notice the symptoms sooner", she admitted in a small voice, "I should've known that nurse wasn't a nurse, we could've avoided this if I had payed more attention."

She thought back at that moment. She didn't even notice someone trying to poison her husband right in front of her. What kind of wife did that make her? He had been on Vertigo for _several hours_ and she hadn't noticed. 

She didn't get to be alone with her husband for long. Dr. Jensen stepped back into the room just a minute later with hands full of white gauzes, a few towels and a bottle of disinfectant. She gave Felicity a sympathetic smile and laid the supplies onto the table next to Oliver's bed. He flinched slightly at the disturbance.

"I'm sorry for interrupting," Amy winced as she noticed the tears in Felicity's eyes, "I'm going to check the incision for torn stitches or infection", she said as she gently lowered the hospital gown, "It's a routine procedure. It's also necessary since he moved around way too much for his own good. I'm also going to examine his chest tube for any air leaks, which are pretty common, or infection. We have to keep a close eye on him since an infection could be more dangerous in his case right now."

The bandages around Oliver's torso were covered in red spots, but for Felicity he didn't seem to be bleeding any longer. She took a sharp breath when Dr. Jensen gently pulled the damp gauze off his skin and dabbed the slightly reddish skin around the 10-inch scar going down right in the middle of his chest. 

It was the first time Felicity saw Oliver's new scars, and they weren't pretty. Actually seeing the results of his suffering made the whole thing impossibly even more real than it was before. The other two bullets had left ragged holes behind them, which had been stitched shut.

"Thankfully the stitches are still in place, the moving only caused a little bleeding." Dr. Jensen said as she finished. "Dr. Ross is gonna come by later to talk about his recovery. He's also going to perform a neurological examination when the Vertigo has worn out."

"Okay." she nodded.

"Mr. Queen's recovery is going to be slow," Amy warned while cleaning the incision, "Dr. Ross avoided doing an open-heart surgery as long as he could, we always do, because of the long recovery time. The surgeon has to cut through the sternum as well as the breastbone to get to the heart, which is tough for the patient."

Felicity nodded while she spoke. 

"He can't lift anything past ten pounds for a while because naturally Dr. Ross had to cut through the muscle as well. He might also experience muscle pain and pain at the incision sites or where the chest tubes are at the moment. I will prescribe a pain medication for when he's outside the hospital, but we'll discuss that later."

"Fine", she agreed and crossed her arms. She probably wouldn't remember any of this later anyway. Thank god for Google. "Whatever makes him feel better."

With that, the other woman covered the wounds, cleaned up after her and left the room.

Yup, they definitely weren't out of the woods yet. There was going to be a lot to deal with still ahead. It was going to take its toll on them as a couple for sure.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice anything," she said again when she was alone with Oliver and ran her fingers through his hair, "You're gonna blame yourself but you shouldn't. You shouldn't, because that wasn't the real you. You were on drugs. I don't blame you."

"Don't-", he breathed, "Please don't."

"Oliver?", she held her breath. "Hey, it's me, hon."

"Pl- Please", he whimpered as his voice broke. "Don't touch me. Don't- Don't touch. Please- Don't-"

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere", she whispered and shook her head even though he wasn't watching. Her vision blurred as she gently cupped the side of his face, intending to turn his head to make eye contact but Oliver flinched violently. He flinched _away from her_.

"Sorry, I'm sorry", she jumped back, holding her hands in the air like she needed to assure him she wasn't armed. "I just want to help you. I won't hurt you."

His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as he struggled against the restrains. "I'm gonna kill you, I-", he mumbled, "I swear to god you're _dead_."

"Wha-", her eyes widened in shock, "Oliver-"

"I swear to god", he hissed with so much anger she felt a shiver going down her back. "I'm gonna kill you, you- She's-"

"It's me, it's Felicity", she tried again but Oliver wouldn't look at her. He kept mumbling nonsense, only a few words audible here and there. 

"Umm," she took a deep breath and searched her mind, "You remember that time we were trapped in the bunker together and you told me you'll always trust me? That you didn't trust yourself, but you trusted me", she slowly inched closer, "I need you to trust me now, Oliver. What you're seeing, it's not real. I'm real and I'm right here with you. I need you to trust me on what I'm saying."

"It's not- Not-", Oliver mumbled and squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Yes, it's not real", she nodded and placed a hand on his hesitantly. "I'm real. I'm here, baby. I'm right here. Listen to my voice."

She knew she was seriously breaking the law or something right then, but she didn't care. Slowly, she slid one of his hands off the handcuff and massaged the palm as shecontinued murmuring comforting words to his ear.

By some miracle, Oliver's breaths slowed down little by little, until he was breathing more deeply. At some point she sat down on the edge of the bed to be as close to him as possible, gently stroking her fingertips over his cheeks and jaw. His scruffy stubble tickled the palm of her hand, giving her some sense of comfort she desperately craved.

She wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep after awhile but she continued caressing him nonetheless.

"F'licity?", he finally rasped in sleepy gravelly voice, so quiet she barely heard him.

"Hi," she smiled at him biting her lower lip when his eyes opened and found hers, "Welcome back."

But Oliver didn't smile back. No, he clentched his jaw and focused his eyes at an invisible spot on the ceiling before squeezing them shut. His lips trembled slightly just before he rolled them inside his mouth and swallowed hard. His next exhale was uneven, shaking just a bit.

"Hey," she whispered, never pulling her hands back. "We're okay, we're both okay, Oliver."

"i'm-", he mumbled, "I'm so sorry- I'm sorry-"

She understood. He knew what happened.

"You don't have to be," she leaned closer, cupping his face with her both hands and softly kissing the single tear from his cheek before it could hit the mattress. "No one blames you, Oliver. _No one_."

The first was followed by another one, and another one, until a steady stream of salty tears flowled down Oliver's pale face, releasing the sadness and regret that he held inside of him. His previously hazy eyes were clear blue now, glistening, as he silently gazed up at her with so much sorrow. 

Still, he didn't make a sound, just silently snuggling his face into her palm. 

That's how he handled his emotions in public. He hid them, downplayed them and pretended they didn't exist. If he was alone in this bed, he wouldn't show anything at all. But they've been together quite some time now, known each other even longer than that. He knew he could count on her, let himself be vulnerable around her, and show her how deeply he actually felt.

Would it be better to rack your body with noisy sobs and let the world know your pain, or to slowly release your emotion within yourself with silent tears? She didn't know.

She peppered his face with soft kisses, his tears mixing with her own, and buried her face to the crook of his neck. His free arm wrapped around her waist to hug her tightly against his chest - as close as he could manage without being in too much pain - as she heard him breathe her in, savoring the feeling of her in his arms once again.

After awhile she slowly pulled back just enough to lock her eyes with his. "Please don't blame yourself," she whispered, afraid of what he'd say.

Oliver just sighed tiredly and lowered his gaze. "I wouldn't be surprised you if you did."

"But I don't." Felicity said with much more confidence, "I would never, not with something like this. You had no control over what happened, neither of us did."

"It was _my_ hands that grabbed you, Felicity." he stated his tone mixture of exhaustion and fear, "There's no changing that."

She didn't know how she could change his mind about this. 

"And I wouldn't hold it against you if you'd want some space or-"

"What?", she stopped him, a frown appearing between her eyebrows. "Space is the last thing I want, Oliver. I just got you back, I'm not taking _space_ any time soon."

Oliver shrugged slightly, still staring at their joined hands. "You said it yourself. For better or worse doesn't exactly count in our vows."

Felicity didn't say anything. She continued to stare at him eyes wide, waiting for further explanation.

"I mean," he shifted uncomfortably, "After what I did, I don't blame you if you wouldn't want to stick with me during the recovery. I know you're the type of person who would take care of anyone in this situation but you shouldn't do that just because you feel-" he trailed off, taking a deep breath, "-obligated to-"

"Oliver, don't finish that sentence." she threw in, making him fall silent. "Where is this coming from?", she asked, making sure her voice stayed soft even though she wanted to shake him for even thinking about something like this.

Finally, Oliver looked back up at her, his expression strange. "I'll find you when I'm better."

" _What?_ ", she uttered, the frown deepening. "No."

"Felicity-"

" _No_ ," she raised her voice, "You don't get to push me away because you think you're some kind of burden to me, or that it's best for me. You are no burden to anyone, Oliver, and I decide what's best for me. If you really want to take some space," she put her hands to his cheeks to make sure he was looking at her, "don't put that on me. I'm not something you can just put away for a while and take it back when you're okay with it. I'm not temporary, Oliver. You're stuck with me, like it or not. You don't get to push me away. Not anymore."

Oliver seemed stunned to silence. He stared up at her with wide eyes.

"We made vows. Yes, they may have not included for better or worse but I didn't think we needed those to stick by each other's side through tough times. You're not getting rid of me."

"You didn't think like that when you got paralyzed," Oliver challenged her with a strained voice, "You said it yourself, Felicity."

"And you proved me otherwise." she replied softly, moving her thumbs over his still damp cheeks. "And now I'm here to prove you otherwise. We've been through so much together, this will be a piece of cake. Easy peasy lemon squeezy." she added. 

"Lemon squeezy, huh?", he said his tone serious but the hint of a smile on his lips gave him away. Her heart fluttered at his attempt of a joke.

"Lemon squeezy." she nodded with a grin. "Although I'm not sure if squeezing a lemon is actually easy. I know it's just a saying but-"

She fell silent when Oliver cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. He gazed up at her with so much love her breath faltered for a moment.

"-but, that's not important." she breathed out, completely forgetting what she was supposed to say in the first place.

"It isn't?", he murmured in a low voice, "What is then?"

His question was supposed to be light, even a teasing one but it got Felicity thinking. The small smile faded off her face as she thought about how close she came to losing him. She could've been one of those women in the waiting room. He could've just died, stopped existing. She would've been a widow. William would've been an orphan. Of course he'd always have her, but it just wouldn't be the same.

"Felicity?" she heard Oliver saying. She couldn't help feeling thankful just to hear him say that, her name in the special way he's always said it, softening his voice just for her. She loved it.

"Thank you for not dying." she replied seriously after awhile, looking deeply into his eyes. She could see the gears turning inside his head as he realized where her thoughts had just went. That was another thing she was thankful for. They never needed words to communicate. Some things were just too painful to be said out loud but he knew. Oliver always knew.

"I think a certain blonde had something to do with that." he sighed while fiddling with the hem of her shirt, lost in his own head.

"I dye it." she gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood again. Oliver however didn't laugh like he usually did. Instead, he looked up at her with a serious expression.

"You really shouldn't have done what you did, though. It could've ended badly."

She took a deep breath, leaning back a little more to make sure he could see her while she spoke. "But it didn't. You expect me to just let you die when there's something I could do?"

"No," he shook his head, "I know you wouldn't, but I wish you did. It's really not worth it."

His answer broke her heart. Felicity stayed quiet for a long time, trying to decide if he was just saying this or did he actually wish what she though he did.

"You think you're not worth it?" she asked with a frown, her throat suddenly growing tight.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably again, obviously not wanting to discuss this any further but she wouldn't back down. It was a great chance to hear his point of view, his thoughts, which he usually kept locked away somewhere deep inside of him. The subject was something he's been struggling with quite some time. It was time to talk about it.

"I don't know." he finally sighed in a small voice, so quietly, suddenly looking bone-deep exhausted. 

"Oliver," she said softly before taking his hand in hers, waiting until he looked back up at her. "Remember when you killed the Count to save me from vertigo?"

He frowned at the sudden change of topic but nodded nonetheless.

"You told me there was no choice to make when I confronted you with it and at the time I didn't know what that meant. I do now," she squeezed his hand, "I know it's not the same but I feel the same way. If the choices I'm given are try and save you or not to save you, I'll always choose saving you even when you don't want me to. I didn't want you to kill the Count for me either, but you did it because there was no choice to make for you. Yesterday there was no choice for me. I had to do something. I couldn't let you die."

"Felicity," Oliver whispered as his whole face filled with confusion. 

She took a deep breath to calm the nerves that had suddenly risen. "There's this-", Felicity's eyes wandered away from his face as she searched the right words, "-weird kind of _need to protect_ inside of me, which makes me do stupid, _stupid_ and reckless things when I see you in danger. I can't really explain it but-", she paused when her voice shook and locked her eyes with his again, which were watching her with an unreadable expression.

"I know the whole grr-no-one-is-going-to-hurt-you-or-they-will-answer-to-me attitude is more your thing," she gave a half shrug, earning a small smile from him, "And I don't really have the skills to actually do much, but I feel that way nonetheless, okay? So I did what I had to do. You would've done the same in my position. Just because you have 10 years of training and the muscles, and I don't, it doesn't mean I won't try to do the same as you."

"You shouldn't-"

"And not-", she pressed a finger to his lips, "-because you'd do the same. I'm trying to put this the other way here. I didn't mean it like that, I did what I did because that's what my first instinct told me to do. Just like you. Not because you'd do that, too."

Oliver was quiet for a long time which made her even more nervous. Did she cross some kind of line? She knew Oliver absolutely hated it whenever she was with the team on the field or anywhere else near danger. She just practically told him she'd do it again in a heartbeat without hesitation. He was probably going to lock her up in a closet or something from now on to prevent anything happening to her.

"Do you know how much I love you?", he finally said with weary but breathtaking smile before gently tugging at her arm until she leaned in to close the distance between them.

"I think I have an idea." she mumbled and brushed her nose against his, still keeping her eyes open as his closed at the contact.

They stayed like that for a while. She loved these quiet moments between them. Of course the conversation was always good and everything, but these moments when they let themselves just be were something special. No one was going to take that away from them. The shooter might have caused him pain and leave him bedridden, but this was something even he couldn't change.

She rested her forehead against his for a moment longer before slowly leaning in the rest of the way, brushing her lips against his slightly colder ones. Neither of them made a move to deepen the kiss. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her chin, gently brushing his fingertips against the bruised skin on her throat as their breaths mingled. The gesture so careful and thoughtful made her heart flutter.

"I love you", she whispered against his lips as soon as they parted. 

"I love you", he countered.

Oliver eyed her up and down for a while after that, taking her in. She was aware of the state she was in herself, with no sleep or food whatsoever, she must've made quite a sight. Her eyes were burning with exhaustion and crying, and she was pretty sure they were swollen as well.

"I know, I'm a mess", she bit her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're beautiful." Oliver relied immediately, looking her in the eyes the whole time. The statement so sweet, yet so simple made her eyes well with tears. How was this man hers?

"You're just saying that because we're married," Felicity teased, gently punching his arm. 

"No, I'm saying it because it's true. You know I'm a bad liar." he smirked.

"That you are." she agreed with a smile. It felt good to joke with him again.

When Oliver attempted to shift on the bed, he hissed. Felicity was brought to reality quicky, he did get shot only the day before.

"You need to rest", she ran her fingers though his hair and leaned in to press her lips against his forehead once more. She pressed the button for morphine two times before straightening again and smiling down at him innocently.

"That is not up to discussion.", she added when he opened his mouth to protest.

"Will you lay with me?", he asked, eyelids already drooping.

She didn't answer, just kicked the sneakers off her feet and swung them onto the mattress next to him. She did quick work getting Oliver's ankles and other wrist off the cuffs before laying down.  Deciding it probably wasn't the best idea to lay on him like she usually did, she slid up on the bed and wrapped her other arm over Oliver's head. He immediately snuggled his face on top of her breast, already half asleep. Thanks for the painkillers, he wouldn't have nightmares just yet.

"F'licty?", she heard him breathe against her neck.

"Yes?"

"Am I on mor... Morph... M-"

"Yes, Oliver," she chuckled to herself, "You are on morphine."

"Oh"

"Yeah", she smiled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head. 

"My chest hurts." he said quietly after awhile.

"I know," Felicity sighed and slid her hand up and down his back, drawing circles to help him relax. She ran her fingers down the back of his neck before going down again, following the same pattern over and over again. "I'm gonna give you some more morphine so you can sleep, okay?"

"I don't wanna."

She pulled slightly back to look down at his face. "Why?"

"Makes sleepy"

Felicity knew how important having some control over the situation was to Oliver. However, he couldn't heal if he was constantly in pain.

"I don't want." he repeated when she didn't say anything.

"And I don't want you to suffer." 

"I just need you," he sighed wearily, "You take away my pain."

"That is awfully sappy, mister", Felicity laughed.

She could feel him smiling against her neck. "I know."

"Do you say that to all the girls?"

"You're the only one."

"God, morphine really makes you sappy." Felicity chuckled under her breath and crinkled her nose.

"You love it", he pointed out.

"And I love you."

* * *

  
After Oliver had taken his nap, Dr. Ross swung by to do the neurological examination. It was pretty much the basic; push your hands towards mine, now pull, how about the legs, and all that. Everything seemed alright to Felicity, which was a huge relief. Dr. Ross looked happy too.

She would've wanted to spend some more time with Oliver after that, but a police officer had asked her to give her statement, like Diggle had warned her. There wasn't really a choice there even though it sounded like a question. Given Oliver's better condition, she couldn't use that as an excuse either.

So there she was, walking down the hall towards the office which the police had occupied temporarily.

"Are you sure we couldn't do this some other time?", Felicity asked for the second time behind the officer who was leading her in the right direction. She couldn't help feeling uneasy around cops, even when she was the victim. That's what illegal vigilantism did to a girl. She wasn't on her way to an interrogation or anything, she reminded herself.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Queen. The captain wanted your statement as soon as possible. I could only drag this out so long." the man answered with a sigh.

She didn't get a chance to reply when they abruptly stopped in front of a door with a frosted glass window, which the officer knocked twice. She heard quiet murmur from the other side, but couldn't make out the words.

Felicity took a deep breath and thought about Oliver. As soon as this was over, she got to go back to him. She'd do this for Oliver, so the police could get the case going. She had to do this. She _could_ do this.

Soon the door was opened by a small brunette woman - no one Felicity had seen before - who shot her an almost too bright smile considering the situation. She must've been an intern or something. Didn't police officers know the drill for this sort of thing? They weren't supposed to be that bright and shiny in front of the victim. Unless they didn't see her as a victim. She did hit the shooter to the head, after all. But still. She was the victim's wife.

"Ms. Smoak, please come in."

Felicity nodded at her with a forced smile. Yeah, she definitely made her uncomfortable. She had also kind of gotten used to being called Mrs. Queen.

"Ma'am," an older man greeted her with a handshake as soon as she got past the brunette, "I'm captain Marks, please sit."

"Captain," she quipped in a high voice. Wow, she got the captain himself as her interrogator. _Not an interrogation, Felicity_. Well, the mayor was the one shot so she guessed it made sense.

"Yes," Marks raised his eyebrows in question, "from the SCPD." 

"Yeah, of course." she nodded and let out a nervous laugh. God, why was she so nervous? She hadn't done anything wrong. She was the victim. She could go back to Oliver as soon as this was over.

"Okay, Ms. Smoak. Are you ready for us to get started?", he glanced down at his papers, probably information about the night before.

"Let's just get it over with." she straightened her shoulders.

"You were at the city hall yesterday at six o'clock, correct?"

"That's right."

"Were you with your husband the whole time?", he continued while writing something down.

Felicity crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table. "Uh, no. I came to the party a little late. I didn't get to see him until...", she trailed off.

Captain Marks shot her an understanding smile, before leaning forward and writing her answer down. There was really something unsettling for her to be questioned while someone was continuously observing her and writing everything she said down.

"Where were you at the time of the shooting?"

"I talked to the chief of the SCPD right before," she thought back before frowning, "Where was he then? Why didn't he help?"

"He was shot to the head," the Captain said, "found from outside the building."

"Oh", she whispered, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. "I was just walking towards Oliver at the time."

"Why did you attend the party late?", the man changed the topic lightly, as if he didn't just drop a huge bomb on her.

Felicity looked back up at him and frowned. "How is that relevant?"

"Just answer the question."

She huffed but answered anyway. There was no reason to make this any harder than it already was. "It just took a little longer for me to get ready."

"Fine," he nodded, "Did you recognize the shooter or communicate with him?"

Exhaustion was quickly affecting her. She wanted back to Oliver. "No, I did not and yes, he talked to me. Briefly."

"What did he say?"

"You know," she lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, "I should shoot you too, don't talk, let Oliver die, the usual."

"What do you mean by the usual?", the man leaned forward.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Not _the usual_ the usual. I know it sounds the same but I mean it as in that's what I'd imagine every guy with a gun saying in that situation. I haven't been pointed with a gun before." If only.

"Do you recognize this man?", he asked next, sliding a black-and-white photo across the table in front of her. 

She looked at the picture of a young man, a boy even. He couldn't be older than 25. He was leaning against the hood of a red pick-up truck, arms crossed in front of his chest, a bright smile on his face. He looked happy.

"No," she replied, glancing up at the Captain who was studying her closely with narrowed eyes. "Should I?"

"Probably not, I just needed to check." he nodded and moved a small recorder she only noticed now more to her direction.

"Who is he?", she asked slowly, now awfully suspicious. A cold feeling of dread was filling her from inside. 

"His name was Brandt Sochinsky," Captain Marks pulled the picture away and replaced it with another one of him with a young girl on his shoulders, "Does the name ring any bells?"

Felicity stared at the picture with a frown. Why was he showing her this? The girl was cute, probably a five-year-old or something. The guy is a dad.

Suddenly the pieces fell into place.

"He's the shooter?", she whispered as her hand rose from her lap to cover her mouth in horror. How did a young man like him get to that kind of situation?

"He was."

_Was?_

"Did you take him to custody?", she bit her lip, now utterly confused.

Captain Marks looked almost surprised for a moment but recovered quickly. "He died."

"What?", her eyes widened, "How?"

"Trauma to the head." 

"Oh my god," she whispered, covering her mouth with both hands. Her vision blurred as a heavy feeling settled on her chest. "I killed him."

"You are not charged with anything, Ms. Smoak." he tried to assure her but it did little to lessen the guilt which had begun to drown her. "Eye witnesses confirmed you acted purely to protect yourself and Mr. Queen. I understand he threatened both of your lives as well as everyone else's in the room. You did what you felt was right."

"I-", she whispered, tears filling her eyes, "I- I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't." he gave her a sad smile, reaching over the table to squeeze her hand.

"I just- I tried to-" she hiccuped as an ugly sob escaped her throat, "He was going to- I didn't mean-"

She _killed_ someone. Someone was dead because of her. A girl was left without a father because of _her_. Even if he wasn't Bratva - which she still didn't know for sure - she killed him. The guilt was like ice in her. It could've been a hundred degrees outside and she would've still felt freezing. She couldn't get it to melt, or to shift. It sat there, in the pit of her stomach painfully. She couldn't think.

_You did what you felt was right._

At some point they must've ended the interrogation, which wasn't really an interrogation, since the Captai had left. Another officer was walking towards her, a smile plastered on his face. Someone helped her get up and walked her down the hall, half holding her upright. Her legs didn't feel like her own. They moved but she didn't move them. At least she didn't feel it. The arm around her shoulder stroked her back up and down in comfort.

She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve their comfort.

She would have to tell Oliver. He would want to hold her. He wouldn't blame her. He would never. She wished he would. It'd make it easier.

She saw the approaching door of his room in front of them. It was closed but it wouldn't be, not for long. The police officer beside her would open it and Oliver would know everything. What she'd done. He'd know she killed. 

No. She had to be strong for Oliver. He needed her. She couldn't go crying to him now. He needed her support and she would give it to him. 

Her legs continued their path on their own accord until the officers hand reached for the handle. The door opened painfully slow. No, she wouldn't be able to lie to him. Oliver would know as soon as he saw her. They were both equally bad liars.

She more felt than heard the officer talking, the deep rumble of his voice could be felt on his chest where she was leaning on. It shouldn've been awkward but it wasn't. She didn't trust she'd stay standing if he let go. 

She heard another deep voice replying something, but she didn't hear the words. Not that it mattered. Felicity's whole body trembled and she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't look at Oliver, not now. She'd see pity and love in his eyes and she didn't deserve either of them.

They were moving again, she noted to herself, when she almost tripped over. The soft cushions of the small couch in Oliver's room hit the back of her knees until she dropped down onto it. The officer's chest was gone, leaving Felicity sitting alone, slightly cold, facing down the dull floor.

Reluctantly, she raised her head after clearing her throat as quietly as possible.

To her surprise, Oliver wasn't staring at her with the mixture of worry and pity she had expected. Instead, he seemed to be fast asleep, silently breathing in and out. Felicity found that odd, considering the fact that someone had talked aloud in the room. Oliver should've woken up immediately.

Her eyes caught the small oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth, as well as the soft cuffs which were back around his wrists. What a hell?

"Wh-", she coughed to clear her raspy voice, "What happened?"

Dr. Ross appeared from somewhere from the side with Oliver's chart in the man's hands. "He had a minor panic attack when a nurse tried to examine him when you weren't here. We had to sedate him."

"Oh, Oliver", she whispered and brushed her hand over his sweaty forehead. 

He had been so much better when she left. She should've known and insisted on staying. There was always the risk of his mental health getting worse in a place like this. She should've known.

"Also, his sister called."

Felicity's head whipped up at that. "Thea?"

"Yes. Ms. Queen wanted to inform you that the flight she was on had to make a stopover in Denver due to the weather. She says the plane won't get in the air until the storm has passed."

Felicity's eyes moved to the window involuntarily. She hadn't noticed the rain was indeed hitting the glass quite forcefully and a faint rumble of thunder could be heard. It was like if the rest of the world had been put on hold. She still had to deal with Helix, meet Thea and Roy, inform Diggle about stuff and probably give a statement to the public. She felt exhausted only thinking about that. She wasn't exactly presentable at the moment.

Now that she thought about it, the storm was loud and unsettling even for her. No wonder Oliver had felt restless.

"Okay." she simply said.

Dr. Ross shot a small smile at her before exiting the room.

So, Thea's arrival would be delayed. She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized the afternoon was already turning into night, Thea should've already been there if her flight hadn't landed in a different state. She felt guilty for not noticing it.

When Oliver shifted a little, she quickly wiped the remnants of tears off her face and twisted her lips into a fake smile, which felt more like a grimace on her face. 

"Felicity?", he sighed quietly, his head rolling to the side as he searched for her. His already fastening heartbeat could be seen and heard on the monitor, which started beeping more rapidly.

"Hey, I'm here." she grabbed one of his hands from the cuffs once more and interlaced their fingers, "Sorry I wasn't here earlier."

He didn't calm down like she thought he would, though. Instead his face filled with confusion and worry when he saw the dried tear tracks and the distraught look on her face she apparently couldn't hide well enough. She attempted to smile reassuringly at him but it only made him frown harder.

"What's wrong?", he immediately asked, a little drowsily but nonetheless.

"Nothing." she quipped a little too quickly.

"You've been crying."

"I've been crying the whole day," she tried to chuckle, "I'm flattered you haven't noticed."

"Felicity"

She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs in front of her so Oliver wouldn't notice how hard she was still shaking. "Nothing's wrong."

" _Felicity-_ "

"Just drop it, okay?", she sighed and looked away.

She wasn't sure how long she could keep it together if Oliver kept pushing. It was like she was barely staying above the surface already, as if she stopped swimming she'd drown. If she stopped focusing on not falling apart, she would do just that.

"You can talk to me. You know that, right?", he reached her fingers to her direction in the cuff. She took his hand willingly.

"I know," she smiled. Damn this man, why was he so sweet all the time. It was really hard to not break down right there and then. "I just don't think I can talk about it right now."

Oliver didn't look happy but nodded anyway. "Is it about the police?"

"Not exactly."

"About yesterday?"

Felicity bit her lip so hard it drew blood. It was hard to believe it had only been a day. For her it felt like a week had passed from that moment when Oliver fell down on the floor.

"How many died?", he whispered, his voice full of sorrow.

"Oliver-", she shook her head but didn't get to continue.

" _Please_ , Felicity. They were my people.", he pleaded, and she couldn't deny him that information.

"11" she whispered and squeezed his fingers so hard she actually was afraid she might break them. She had seen the news on her way to the interrogation. Before she had no idea so many had died herself.

Oliver closed his eyes but she saw the heartbreaking despair in them. Oliver loved this city. Those people had families. They had friends, their own lives.

"How many injured?"

She didn't want to share this information with him, not really. Knowing Oliver, he would only blame himself over the deaths of those 11 people, and when it came to those who were injured, he would do everything in his power to make their lives easier. Pay their hospital bills, children's education, even buy them groceries if needed. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but he couldn't help everyone, specially when the whole thing wasn't Oliver's fault from the start.

But he deserved to know. She would be right next to him, helping those people if that's what he wanted.

"14, including you." she answered after awhile.

He became quiet after that. So quiet Felicity almost considered calling a nurse to check him for a stroke or something but decided against it. This was a lot to take in. So she gently pulled both of his hands away from the cuffs and kissed each nuckle from each hand while he stared blankly ahead with unseeing eyes. She would give him all the time he needed. She would give him anything.

"And the shooter?" he murmured.

He didn't look up at her, missing the way her breath faltered in the mention of the man. She was thankful for it, though, because she didn't want him to see her chin trembling as she tried to hold back the gut-wrenching sob that threatened to escape her throat. She swiped her eyes quickly but the tears came anyway. 

"He, umm-", she started but cut herself off when she heard how her voice wavered. _Damn it._ "I-, He was- When I-"

"Hey," Oliver said so, _so_ softly, like she would break if his voice was any harder. Maybe she would.

Involuntary whimper escaped her lips when she opened her mouth. Her chest felt heavy, as if someone was sitting on top of her. She had trouble cathing her breath, to take a deep inhale, and for a minute she panicked.

"Felicity, what is it?", she heard Oliver's worried voice pushing through the dull haze inside her head. She didn't notice she had started curling into herself on the couch until she felt his warm fingers trying to pry her arms open around herself. She shrugged him off a little too harshly, immediately regretting the move when she heard his stifled groan.

"Oh god, I'm sorry", she breathed, more tears spilling over. She couldn't even keep herself from hurting her own husband, no wonder she accidentally killed that guy. There must be something wrong with her.

"Felicity", his voice pushed through again a little stronger this time, as if he'd said her name quite a while now. Good, at least he wasn't hurt that badly. 

"Oliver," she whimpered desperantly, not really even knowing why. Her lungs felt like they were burning, the pressure on her chest increasing every second. She reached her hand out for something, anything to keep her from drowning.

"Breathe, Felicity. Just breathe." Oliver's steady voice called out to her again, his fingers wrapping around her outstretched hand in a solid grip. She let herself feel the rough skin, the little wrinkles of his palm and focused on just that.

She heard Oliver talking to her, encouraging her to take a deep breath. She didn't understand his plea, though. She was taking deep breaths, wasn't she? Her lungs burned again and she attempted to inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth like she'd told Oliver to do dozens of times.

She was vaguely aware that she was having another panic attack, in front of Oliver. Great, he would never let this go. He would think she was broken or something and he'd want to fix her. Well, sorry to disappoint you, mister. She was completely fine. Not like Ross from _Friends_ fine but fine-fine. She was. And if he didn't believe her, she would have to use her loud voice, like Oliver called it. He really had the weirdest nicknames for everything. Overwatch, loud voice, he even called her wheelchair Wheel-y once, or Weapon of Mass Destruction - shortly WMD - because she used to bump into people with it all the time.

"There you go," Oliver said softly, stroking the lenght of her arm back and forth. By some miracle, she noticed, her breathing had slowed down and the pressure on her chest decreased. 

"Sorry," she murmured while wiping her face with both hands, "I don't know what that was about." 

"What about the shooter, Felicity?", Oliver asked again, deep worry still visible on his features. "What happened?"

"He's dead." she whispered.

"Oh," he breathed and looked down. She couldn't identify the emotion that flashed on his face. Confusion? Relief? Sadness?

But Oliver didn't ask how it happened. She frowned to herself, feeling the guilt gnawing in her stomach. She couldn't keep it to herself like she thought. She couldn't. Why wasn't he asking? Did he sense somehow that her distress was about that? Did that cop already tell him something when she wasn't listening?

"He- uh...", she continued in a shaky voice after taking another deep breath, "It's my fault."

Oliver's head whipped back to her so quickly she cringed. "What?"

"I didn't mean to" she whimpered and covered her mouth with her palm again. "I swear I didn't-"

"What are you talking about?", he asked in a gentle tone and lowered her hand back to his lap. He shouldn't be so nice to her. 

"I killed him," she sobbed barely audible as her throat tightened to the point where she wasn't sure she could breathe. Her short intake of breath was cut short by another sob that tore through her chest until her whole body was shaking.

Oliver stared at her with a strange expression, making Felicity extremely nervous. Logically she knew he wouldn't judge her, giving his history, but at that moment she felt doubt filling her. 

"I didn't mean to kill him,", she repeated again in a small voice, which she really hated, "I just- I hit him too hard- He-"

"Hey, it's okay" he finally found his voice, sounding strangely a bit out of breath all of a sudden. "It was him or me, you saved my life. If you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't be here."

"But still, I killed someone," she whispered as she felt her lower lip shake uncontrollably. She knew this. She knew she didn't have a choice. This happened sometimes.

"I'm sorry," he swallowed hard and looked down guiltily, "You had to do that because of me, I'm sorry I put you in that position-"

"You didn't do anything, Oliver. I was the one with the shoe."

"You wouldn't have even been there if it wasn't for me," Oliver insisted, eyes glistening, "Just like those 24 people who were hurt or dead because of me. The shooter was there because of _me_."

Frack, she didn't think of this alternative of the conversation. She didn't think Oliver would take it like this.

"What?" she raised her eyebrows, "I killed him-"

"Because otherwise I would've died!" he finished, his tone frustrated.

"And I couldn't let that happen."

"You should've," he spat, "At least you shouldn't have killed."

Felicity stared at him with wide eyes. "Stop offering to die for me, please."

Oliver was quiet for a few seconds. "Cause and effect, Felicity."

She sighed. "Is this about you not wanting me to be like you, again?"

Oliver locked eyes with hers, his showing concern and fear. "I never wanted to put you in this position. I'm sorry you had to do that." he said quietly while shaking his head. He looked so tired even though he had just woken up.

"I'm sorry, too." she replied. "Don't blame yourself. You do that enough as it is."

He just yawned with sagged shoulders, sinking lower on the bed. A small wrinkle had appeared on his forehead, as if he'd aged years in just few minutes. 

"I'm gonna take a nap." he informed her in a flat voice.

It wasn't fair. He shouldn't be blaming himself over something she did. She understood where he was coming from, she had felt the same way every time Oliver had killed for her, but it wasn't fair he had to carry so much. Wouldn't it be easier to let her take some of that guilt?

She stole a quick glance to the hallway before kicking off her sneakers again and climbing on the bed beside him. He opened his arms for her instantly and she snuggled up to him gladly. They both sure needed it, the closeness, the reminder that they were both still there. She laid her head beside his on the pillow, so they were facing each other.

"We're not done talking about this", she raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged.

How much more could he take, she wondered. He had to deal with so much she was starting to prepare for the moment he couldn't anymore. What would happen then? Was it close? His mental health was already fragile because of the island, how many blows to the gut could his self-esteem take? She could already see the growing self-hatred on his face as he tried to relax on the tiny bed with his jaw was clentched. She could see the way he was detaching himself emotionally.

She was wrong. Telling Oliver the truth didn't make her feel any better. It was quite the opposite, actually. Now the guilt wasn't only on her shoulders, it was on Oliver's too. She had just made everything even harder for him. For them both.

He was already half asleep, thanks to the drugs. He held her tight against him but she could still feel how stiff he held himself. Frozen. Still.

Felicity should've never told him about Sochinsky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The angst is real guys..  
> I wanted to give you an uninterrupted Olicity moment because you're all going to hate me after the next chapter XD Nothing too bad, but.. Well, you'll see.
> 
> I also want to clarify that Oliver is not angry or blame Felicity for killing the guy (if I didn't make it clear enough). He feels guilty, because in his head he put Felicity in the position where she had to do it. So he's not acting weird because he's mad at her or something.  
> We have to remember that these characters are humans, who have (sometimes conflicted) feelings!
> 
> Would you be a darling and leave me a comment or kudos? :) They really inspire me. I know that's what we all say, but it's true.


	5. A New Hope

She was running.

The white, shiny tile floor felt slippery against her feet. Slippery and clammy all at once, if that was possible. Her feet hurt, they were freezing for some reason, and she was missing a shoe. She only had one shoe on. That fact somehow felt super important but she couldn't tell why. But running with only one heel didn't really work, so she kicked the other off too.

Why was she running again? Right, Oliver was in trouble. She had to be fast, to get to Oliver, before it was too late. She couldn't remember what it was she was late from but it didn't matter. All she knew was that she was late, and he was in trouble. Late was always a bad thing, so she ran. Running was hard for her. Clammy, shiny, white floor surely didn't help with that. Her feet slammed painfully against it.

She stepped on the hem of her dress, causing her to momentarily lose her balance, before finding it again and straightening up. She wasn't going to go flying head first onto the floor. She was going to make it to Oliver this time. She had to warn him. Save him. She needed to save him from it. All she needed was a little more time. TIme was up.

A foreign sound echoed in the hallway ahead of her, making her ears ring as the sound intensifyed the closer to the source she got. It would be so easy to be a cower, to just turn over and run in the opposite direction. The noise was odd, though, and she wanted to find out where it came from. It was familiar but unknown at the same time.

Footsteps.

Huh, that was strange. Oliver wasn't walking. He was staring at her with the most beautiful, breathtaking smile on his face, slowly opening the collar of his white dress shirt to tease her. That was his thing. To tease her, that is. He stared at her with love and passion across the hall. That smile could get him away with murder if needed for sure.

The wine glass on her hand weighed twice as much as before, she noted. Huh. That was odd. She didn't remember running with a wine glass.

Footsteps. Collar of a shirt. Oliver's smile. Footsteps. Footsteps. Footsteps.

Who was walking? No one was walking, the sound didn't belong to the scene. Footsteps. What was that? Something touched her arm. She looked down at her silver gown with dark red spots, not seeing anything out of the place. Huh.

Clack, clack, thud, thud, clack, clackety-clack.

Something was wrong.

Felicity slammed her eyes open with a flinch when a large hand covered her mouth, stifling the scream caught up in her throat.

She stumbled upright from where she had been sleeping head on Oliver's bed, effectively knocking over her chair. The hand on her mouth pulled her backwards violently as she attempted to move under their grip. Oh god, _oh god_ , she though her heart pounding, _this wasn't happening again_.

It took Felicity a little too long to realize the hand was covered in fabric and the strong scent of some sort of chemical was indeed coming from it.

_Not good._

Felicity held her breath as she poundered her options. She could fight and probably lose, causing the person trying to knock her out - or kill her, who knew - and be able to get to Oliver, which she couldn't allow. But how should she exactly get out of this situation? Her lungs burned in protest. She still felt the faint smell of the rag in her nose, making her lightheaded and nauseous. There wasn't much time before she'd pass out. There wasn't time for a solid plan.

Mentally apologizing to Oliver if everything went to hell, she closed her eyes and relaxed her whole body completely.

The attacker didn't expect that move, she noted. His attempt to catch her before she hit the floor was interrupted when she caught herself at the last moment and ducked under the bed. She twisted her wrist painfully at the drop but bit her lip to stop herself from making a sound. She would _not_ show weakness.

She pulled herself to the other side and stood up as fast as she could before the man had a chance to grab her legs. Oliver would be proud.

A man little younger than Oliver stood on the opposite side of the bed. She couldn't see him clearly due to the pitch black night, but she could tell he was built. His face was hidden in the shadows but then again it didn't really matter what he looked like. She just couldn't see his eyes, where he was looking at, which was unsettling. He stood still - so deadly still it reminded her of Oliver back in the days when he killed people - and it scared her. Still was never good. Still meant extreme danger. Still meant a trained fighter.

She stole a quick glance at Oliver, who was fast asleep on his back, his head slightly rolled on her direction. He looked so peaceful it brought tears to her eyes. That would change any second now. But then again he was drugged. He wouldn't be able to fight like he did on vertigo.

The man on the other side of the bed moved.

She grabbed some sort of medical instrument from the tray behind her in a desperate attempt to defend herself and Oliver if needed. Her hand shook so hard she almost dropped the item immediately, which wouldn't have been the best first impression to give to the man who was trying to kill them. She was sure he could still see how terrified she actually was. Not good.

The man ignored her, though. He just blankly glanced up at her for a few seconds before looking down at Oliver and reaching for something in his pocket. She felt sick with apprehension.

"Hey", she hissed as loudly as she dared in a hope that someone outside would hear her. She didn't want to do anything drastic which could lead to bad, _bad_ things. How the hell did he even get inside? Wasn't there like a whole team of police officers just outside the door? What did he do with them?

When the man didn't react in any way, she threw the weapon in her hand at him which she now identified as a stethoscope. Great, _really great Felicity_. Not only did she just miss an unmoving target, she also made herself look like a complete moron. The man still didn't react and for a moment Felicity almost questioned her own eyes. Maybe she was still asleep. Maybe she was hallucinating due to the lack of sleep and food she'd gotten over the last two days. Or maybe he just didn't see her as a threat at all.

She felt a wave of nausea roll over her and she wondered what exactly had he put on that rag he had tried to suffocate her with.

He looken unarmed, which didn't make sense since he clearly came in to hurt them. Wouldn't it be easier to just quickly shoot or stab them both? Not that she'd want that to happen, but coming without any weapons seemed fishy. Unless that would cause too much attention.

Her eyes caught the crash cart behind the man. It would be so easy for him to open it and find what he needed to end this. Those things have scalpels in them. Scissors, syringes, medicine. He could just grab whatever instrument he wanted and make this look like a medical mistake.

She needed to get help. She needed help like, _yesterday_. She couldn't call a nurse. The call button was on his side. She couldn't run out of the door and leave Oliver alone with him. Drugged Oliver and untrained Felicity didn't make the best team out there

"There are ten cops outside the door," she said quietly, trying to remain calm, "They'll barge in the second I call them."

The attacker raised his head and stared at her again. Why did he only stare? Did he not understand english? It would make sense, though, if he was Bratva. Not that she'd want him to be Bratva. Yeah, she'd take an amateur over the russian mafia any day. But if he only knew russian, this whole talking-him-out-of-killing-her-husband thing was a bit more complicated than she originally thought.

Then he huffed out a laugh.

A sudden gush of pain jolted through Felicity's body. Her stomach ached, her arms lost tension and her legs began to weaken. What a hell was in that rag? Her knees shook as she leaned forward to grab something to keep her upright but she was just a few inches too far. A stabbing pain in her chest made her catch her breath and double over as she dropped to the floor.

The man simply stood back and watched her, before turning around and starting to dig through the supply cart, like he'd read her thoughts before. She inhaled through the pain as she struggled to get up on all fours. She didn't know how she could possibly stop him when a shooting pain rippled thorugh her whole body so she had trouble taking a deep breath. She didn't doubt that if she'd breathed that chemical any longer she'd be dead right now.

Quick glance at Oliver confirmed that he was still sleeping peacefully, which somehow made it even worse. He didn't have a clue about what was happening. Normally he would've woken up the second the man stepped in the room, but he was heavily drugged with morphine and some other sedatives at the moment. _Unless the guy had already done something to him. While she was sleeping_.

Tears of frustration and pain burned in her eyes but she refused to cry. Not now, not in front of Bratva.

A terrifying sound of defibrillator being charged made her whip her head up in a split second. Her heart immediately jumped to her throat as she realized where the attacker was aiming at. He _would_ be making this look like a natural death.

He will _not_ get to Oliver.

When the man turned around with the paddles, she circled the bed with trembling legs in a few quick steps until she was between Oliver and the man. She didn't have the slightest clue how this would help, she'd probably only get them both killed, but she panicked.

She couldn't say what exactly went wrong from that point.

One minute she stood between Oliver and the danger and the next she was laying on the floor in an unnatural position on her stomach. At least she thought it had only been a minute. She had no idea how she ended up there, nor did she remember how long ago that even happened, suggesting that she'd hit her head. Her right arm hung awkwardly on her side, probably dislocated even though she didn't feel the pain quite yet, but she could feel the warm trail of blood trickling down the side of her face and other eye.

The man wasn't even the League of Assassins and he still knew some weird ninja moves.

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut as blindling pain rippled through her head when she tried to look up at Oliver. He was on his own. She managed to wobble up on her feet just to see him pressing the paddles down on Oliver's chest, and shocking him, making his whole body jump up violently.

She couldn't believe her eyes. She didn't want to anyway. She never saw something like that even in her worst nightmares. But that was only because her brain always woke her up before such a horrible image covered her mind. This was no dream. There was no waking up. And now she was seeing something her eyes won't ever be able to erase.

Oliver let out a blood-curdling scream, a painful wail that had Felicity's chest tightening as though she felt the shock right along with him, as he slammed his eyes open. His heart monitor showed the deviation by starting an ear-piercing screech, the sound echoing around the room and making her head throb.

The adrenaline flew over her veins like a carp through the river, but she couldn't move a single muscle, not even scream. The absolute horror completely paralyzed her, and the more she thought about running to Oliver, or simply moving a finger, the more she felt discouraged and utterly terrified. She didn't remember being that scared in her life, not even at the city hall. And the man was still in the room with them. It was only the beginning.

That idea only made it worse. If that was even possible.

Oliver kept opening and closing his mouth like he was trying to catch his breath, but failing miserably. His chest rose and fell rapidly with repeated attempts to breathe but something seemed to be keeping him from inhaling deeply. He let out a low whimper, somehow the sound now even more heart-wrenching, as though the pain wasn't easing off like it was supposed to.

The man said something in russian she didn't understand, how could she, and reached behind him to charge the paddles again.

That got Felicity to move from her spot a few feet away. She searched the room quickly for something to help her, since she got only one arm in use, anyway. Heart pounding, she ran her fingers through the long strands of her hair in frustration, slightly tugging them more and more every second her eyes didn't spot anything useful. Oliver was the one to pay the price if she didn't find a way to save him, and soon.

There wasn't anything, she realized. She would have to do this on her own, somehow, without getting killed first. With only one arm and a concussion. Against the Bratva.

She swallowed multiple times around the huge lump in her throat, trying to dampen the panic she felt rising. Maybe the guards outside the door were just unaware about the situation here, maybe the guy had somehow succeeded in sneaking past them without killing them.

Sweat glistened on Oliver's face and he let out another desperate cry that shook her to the core, before she actually got herself moving again. She tiptoed to the door - as if the attacker couldn't hear where she was headed - against the instinct to run to Oliver. She stole a quick glance to the hallway through the window next to the door, but what she saw made her blood run cold.

There, in the hallway, were at least dozen police officers standing, talking with each other and just leaning against the walls. That didn't make sense, though. They shouldn've heard Oliver's screams and ran straight inside. Those hospital walls were like paper, you could hear everything happening. Which is why those officers just casually sipping their coffees like there was nothing to worry about in the world while Oliver was being attacked didn't make _any sense_.

Then she heard one of them speaking. _Russian_.

_No._

These officers were corrupt, she realized. The Bratva had men inside the SCPD. They were actually just guarding the door for any interruptions while one of them was getting the job done. To the outside they looked just like the real officers from the station but now she knew better. These men weren't there to protect her and Oliver. They were here to kill him and then leave as if nothing had happened.

Rage filled Felicity's mind and she glandly accepted it to replace the utter terror she felt. Rage was good. Rage she could deal with.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with the lock of the door until she could hear the soft _click_ , signaling her the door was locked. She still didn't have a phone with her so there was no way to reach anyone outside the room without getting shot or worse by the cops.

When she heard the paddles being charged again, she practically ran back to the room, throwing anything she could reach at the man. He blocked every item gracefully, as though they were just playing catch, while Felicity found it hard to even hold anything in her grasp. She didn't stop until her fingers were met with nothing. There was only one choice left for her after that.

In that frozen second between just standing there and doing something, the man's eyes flicked from her to Oliver, like he was daring him to step between them. Like the man knew she would be the one losing and Oliver was forced to watch, unable to stop it from happening. His mouth gave a slight twitch of amusement when he looked down at Oliver and patted him lightly on the head like he was some puppy.

Another burst of hate and anger filled her once again at the gesture and before she knew what she was doing, she was on him.

She was vaguely aware of the strange yelp of anger that left her mouth when her elbow collided with his stomach, taking him by surprise. However, he recovered quickly. Before she could retreat from his personal space, he had grabbed the length of her arm and in one swift movement, he swung her around and against a wall.

Her dislocated arm slammed on a cart of supplies, sending a sharp jolt of pain from her shoulder down to her fingers and back up again. She cried out breathlessly. Falling heavily on the floor, she clutched her injured shoulder to avoid it bumping to anything else.

"Not so brave without your computers, no?" he smirked.

She saw a fist coming towards her face but ducked at the last second. Bruised and a bit winded, with an arm in agony, she grabbed the foot of the man and pulled him to the ground with her.

Felicity caught the flash of surprise on the man's face, as well as Oliver's pained whimper of her name, but she couldn't focus on either one of those. She focused on the man's movements, tried to predict what his next move might be, just like Oliver had taught her. All those self-defence lessons she insisted on going were definitely put in good use. He probably could block every basic move she tried but it was worth the shot.

She crawled across the floor backwards and unplugged the defibrillator from the power point to buy her some time just as the man got back to his feet and was now approaching her awfully fast.

"Feisty", he murmured and looked down at her with fascination. "No wonder kapyushon keeps you around. You did not seem like his type."

He loomed over her, somehow looking even bigger from this perspective, and quickly took a hold of the front of her shirt and lifted her in the air. His other hand brushed a little too close to her breast for her liking.

"My boss will like you."

"You're a monster," she said shakily, "And you're going to pay for this."

The man's eyebrows shot up. "I am not a monster. I am doing what is right."

"You think this is right?", she challenged, refusing to break the eye contact first. "You think it's right to come into an injured man's hospital room to kill him? The same man your men put in here in the first place?"

"I am sorry, Miss Smoak, that it has come to this."

Felicity swallowed hard. "I thought the Bratva didn't support rape."

"We do not." Okay, so they are the Bratva. "Good thing I am not them yet." his mouth pursed in a self-satisfied smirk and she shuddered.

_What?_

"So that's it?", she swallowed, "You're just gonna kill Oliver and take me? That's your master plan?"

The man tilted his head to the side in consideration. Ignoring her question, he stated "You have something boss wants. And you have something I want."

And what was _that_ supposed to mean?

"Remember, your husband put you in this position."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You might have wanted to ask that from kapyushon earlier," he shrugged, "But it does not matter anymore. He has made his choice."

Felicity shook her head, now fully confused. "Made a choice about what?"

"Like I said," he straightened his shoulders and she could tell their conversation was about to come to an end, "In the end it does not matter."

When his other hand suddenly shot up for a punch, she covered the side of her head with her arm, sliding it up towards his face. With her injured arm, she grabbed the wrist of the hand holding her up and twisted his forearm to the wrong direction until he hissed and dropped her.

Now was her chance.

She turned around and picked up Oliver's I.V pole, swinging it at the man's head as hard as she could. At that point she didn't really care what she did to him, as long as he was going down. The metal collided first with his palm as he closed his fingers around the pole, but she managed to shove it towards him and the end of it hit him to the side. With another surprisingly strong pull, the poll was free of his grip again and the next time it slammed against his forehead with a loud _bang_ and he instantly dropped to the ground. She hit him a few more times until her vision blurred with tears so much she had trouble seeing.

Strange, loud sound between sob and sigh escaped her lips but she didn't bother trying to stop it.

She didn't know how long she stood there after that, the I.V pole raised above her head, staring down at the unconscious man currently laying on the floor of Oliver's room. Her ears filled with white noise and she breathed heavily from the strain but other than that, she didn't feel anything. The pain on her right shoulder was long gone, as well as from her head. She didn't feel the awful guilt threatening to strangle her, or the exhaustion. Adrenaline flowed through her system in full speed, making her tremble all over.

"Felicity"

_Oliver._

Instantly all fight left her with one deep exhale and she dropped the pole clattering to the floor.

She felt sharp pain on her shoulder, spreading down her arm. Unshed tears burned in her eyes when she looked down at Oliver's bare chest and noticed the fresh electric burn marks on his skin. His worried, wild eyes caught hers and she just turned around at the man on the floor before looking back up at him.

And she chuckled.

Once she started, she couldn't stop. Laughter bubbled deep inside of her, and she placed a hand on her stomach as she glanced at the shooter again. Oliver looked at her like she'd grown a third eye. She threw her head back and laughed for what felt like minutes when it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.

"It isn't-", she hiccuped, wiping away the tears that had spilled over, "It's not funny, really. It's just- Isn't this kind of- Kind of ironic that I was able to put down the Bratva when-" she laughed, "-when the only training I've had is a couple of self-defence lessons?"

Oliver didn't answer her, but the frown on his face said it all. He didn't see the irony of the situation. He didn't understand why she was laughing. Then again, neither did she.

"I mean," she took a deep inhale before bursting out laughing again, "Who would've thought, right? The CEO of a _tech company_ just knocked out the Bratva. In what kind of world are we living in? I should be careful, soon people are going to think i'm the Green Arrow."

"Felicity-"

"Even I didn't think I'd win", she giggled, gesturing at the man on the floor. "But look at that. I guess I had a pretty good motive because if I didn't-" she sniffled, her laughter slowly dying out, "You'd be dead. That thought kept me going even when this," she gestured at her shoulder, "Hurt like hell, I knew I couldn't give up because that meant giving up on you. And I wasn't going to do that."

"Hey-"

"If I didn't win-", she covered her mouth to keep down the sob making its way up her throat, "You'd be dead. That's _fucked up_."

"Felicity", Oliver said softly.

"No," she shook her head and wiped her tears away. "We're not doing this. Not when there are a bunch of corrupt, trigger-happy cops just outside the door and a Bratva guy on the floor. Nope. We're not doing this."

"Are you okay?", she heard him ask quietly.

"I'm fine."

"Felicity-"

"I said I'm _fine_ ," she snapped.

Without giving Oliver the time to reply, she wiped her nose, crouched down to the man and searched his pockets. She found a bunch of paper notes and bottle caps from his jacket, nothing useful there, but maybe she'd get lucky for once. She had definitely earned it.

"Yes!", she exclaimed when her fingers brushed against a cold, metallic item. She'd recognize an eletronic device in her sleep. She pulled out the small cell and immediately dialed the emergency number.

"Hey, this is Felicity Smoak- Yes the mayor's wife- No, no, we're not fine. I need immediate help at Starling General- No, don't call them. I'll explain later." she answered the dispatcher's questions quietly to avoid alerting the officers outside.

They were gonna get help. Those cops were going to jail and Oliver would be checked out. She might need a sling for the arm, too, but she was worried about Oliver. He seemed fine for now but you never knew. She needed to know for sure. For her peace of mind.

But what was that guy talking about? What choice had Oliver made, that also concerned her? Why hadn't he told her about it? _What was going on?_ She hadn't noticed anything to be wrong with Oliver, but he could've knowingly kept her out of the picture. It's not like he's never done that before. She'd need to ask him about this later, when they were safe and sound.

* * *

 

" _You_ ", Felicity hissed, pointing a finger of her good arm towards Captain Marks, whose shoulders slumped at the sight of her approaching from the hallway crowded with the police. A young nurse was following her and saying something about sitting down and letting her check on her arm and head but she was too furious to even think about staying in one place.

"Miss Smoak-"

"You were supposed to make sure me and my husband were safe in this place. That was _your_ job." she raised her voice, "But what happened only a few minutes ago? That's right!", she let out a bitter laugh. "We were attacked. _In his hospital room_. How exactly is that protecting us? Protecting the mayor?"

"Ma'am-"

"And why is John saying he's not allowed in this wing, again?" she continued, almost shaking with anger and frustration. "For the last time, he's family. Where I'm allowed, he's allowed. That is not up to discussion. You better give a call to your boys at the door and fix that. I need John in here I can't do this without John."

"Miss Smoak", the captain sighed and bowed his head in apology. "We weren't aware of the corrupt officers. That, however, raises new suspicions and we're gonna have to question you again as well as Mr. Queen, unfortunately so. We were hoping this would've been a one-time thing just as much as you did."

Felicity snorted and looked away. "I highly doubt that."

"I promise, we'll make up for any harm this misunderstanding has cost you."

Her head whipped back at him, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Misunderstanding? How is a dozen cops trying to kill us _a misunderstanding_? Your payments won't compensate for Oliver's continuous physical and emotional pain. I need real solutions, captain. You can't buy me silent about this."

"I understand you're upset-"

"Damn right I am." she said in a quiet voice and took a step forward, seeing how he tensed despite the fact she was at least seven inches shy of his height. "I need a full background check about anyone who is a hundred feet from Oliver, including you. That is not up to discussion. I might do that myself to be sure."

"Felicity?" a woman's frightened voice called out from behind her and she cringed internally.

"Just so you know," she looked up at the captain evenly, "I could've sued this whole hospital just for the vertigo. The only reason I won't is because I know how much this hospital helps the people in need. I'm not sure I can say the same about the SCPD, though."

Captain Marks pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded.

"Thea", she said louder, forcing herself to open her balled fists and relax her shoulders before turning around to face the younger woman. "Hi."

"What's going on?" Thea took in her rugged appearence with wide eyes. "What happened to you? Why are there so many cops in here? Where's Ollie?"

Felicity's eyes met with Roy's behind Thea, who was holding William by the shoulders. The boy's face was white as a sheet as he stared at her with fearful eyes. Roy shook his head ever so slightly, just enough for her to understand the severity of the situation. William was not taking this well.

"William", she said softly and opened her arms for the boy, who gladly ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She pressed her nose in his hair and inhaled deeply, needing the proximity just as much as he did after everything that happened. William was safe for now. They were all okay.

After a few seconds William moved to stand beside her to make room for her to greet the others, a gesture oddly comforting. There was always someone on her corner, no matter what. She and William were family, and they'd look out for each other.

"What happened?", Thea asked again in a whisper, clamping Roy's hand between her own. She felt pity towards the other woman. She had almost lost her brother one too many times for anyone's liking. Now she understood that getting through something like that requires a great strength.

Felicity pulled her in for a hug too, and Roy followed suit.

"I will explain everything, I promise," she nodded, "But I think we can all agree to see Oliver first."

"Yeah", Thea nodded eagerly.

William took her hand and gave a little squeeze when they walked down the hall to Oliver's room, and she smiled warmly at him. "I'm okay, Will."

"You don't have to be," he shrugged, "We're here now so you can take a breath."

"I know." she said.

"I'm just saying, you don't have to be fine all the time, not around us. You should let us help. Dad wouldn't want you to deal with everything by yourself. It's not healthy."

Her throat tightened a bit but she let out a relieved laugh. "When did you become an eightly-year-old lady with wise life advice?" she teased him and gave his shoulder a nudge.

That earned her a small, self-satisfied smirk from him. "Mrs. Patterson is having an impact on me."

That was true, she thought. The nice, old lady next door had taken an interest in William the moment he moved in the loft, inviting him for a cup of tea from time to time and all that. She had widowed early, leading her to miss her chance to have children on her own. William always told her about Mrs. Patterson and the crazy stories she told the boy about her youth. Felicity doubted half of them actually happened but she didn't say anything. She and Oliver really liked Mrs. Patterson and they wouldn't be the ones to stop William from visiting the lonely retiree.

Felicity stayed in the hallway while Oliver chatted with Thea, Roy and William. She wanted to give them some privacy and besides, she needed to come up with a good way to approach the elephant in the room without scaring off Oliver in the process. Oliver's choice really bothered her and she needed to know what had happened between him and the Bratva, something so awful he hadn't felt like he could come to her with it.

Had they threatened him? Or her?

Hadn't she made sure their home was a safe place where he could share everything? Did he think she would judge him? What kind of wife let their husbands think like that?

Squaring her shoulders, she paced back and forth in front of the door and listened to the quiet murmurs from the other side.

After a few minutes Roy came to invite her in, and she plastered a smile on her lips. There was no reason to worry Thea or Roy quite yet, not when she didn't know what really was going on herself.

"-and then Raisa said she had made them herself! It was crazy!" she heard the rest of something William was telling Oliver, and her eyes welled up at the picture they made together.

William was sitting on the edge of Oliver's bed with legs crossed under him. Her husband was staring up at him with a soft, content smile on his face, something she'd seen less and less for the last few weeks due to stress, as he nodded and asked questions every once in a while. He looked tired, but better.

She walked up to her two boys and placed a hand on William's shoulder. "Will, would you give your dad and I a moment, please?"

Oliver's eyes caught hers over the boys head, and he nodded in understanding. She had almost forgotten Oliver had been right there when she had chatted with the attacker, surely he had heard everything despite the pain he was in. But that was good, though. That meant she didn't have to repeat everything she heard.

"Sure." William looked back and forth between them, sensing the tension and went to sit on the couch with Thea and Roy.

Felicity sat down where William had been, and took Oliver's hand in hers. He inspected the palm of her hand in sudden interest and she could tell he felt guilty.

"I guess you have something to tell me." she started quietly, waiting until he met her eyes again.

"Before you say anything-"

"I'm not mad." she brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Okay, maybe a little mad but I think that's justified. I just need you to know that whatever happened, I still love you."

Oliver sighed deeply and leaned into her touch. "Three weeks ago a man visited me in the city hall."

Three weeks? Felicity bit her lip. She had a bad feeling about this.

"I thought he was just some politician or a member of the board. He was wearing a suit and he spoke in native english. I didn't think much of it at first. I get a lot of visitors like that a day." Oliver explained.

"So who was he?", she asked when he didn't continue.

"His name was Andrei Vershinin", Oliver told her, "It means _warrior_ or _man_."

"Does every bad guy just happen to have a name that fits their bad guy life?" she snorted and Oliver gave her a look. "Sorry. So he was Bratva?", she sobered, continuing to caress his face while she spoke.

"That thought crossed my mind at first, but I told myself I was making things up and being constantly on guard wasn't doing any good."

Felicity couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in her chest. She'd told him something similar not that long ago.

"When I was certain he was Bratva, I reminded him I wasn't part of their business anymore. I was the mayor now and I had a family."

"You _are_ the mayor and you _have_ a family." she corrected him gently.

Oliver gave her a brief smile before sobering again. "Things got heated pretty quickly and he ended up with a broken nose and a clear message back to his boss."

"That guy said you made a choice." Felicity said warily. There was a reason why Oliver skipped to the end of the story, for sure. "What did he want from you?"

"It's not so much what he wanted from _me_." his eyes trained to the wall behind her as his jaw clentched. "He wanted to make a deal."

"About what?"

"You in exchange for leaving me alive."

"What?", she exclaimed a little too loudly and Oliver shushed her. "Me? What do they want _me_ for? Why wouldn't they leave you alive?"

"I swore an oath when I joined them. I have no family. I have no home. I have no name. I am Bratva." Oliver explained in a dull voice as if he'd said those words dozens of times. "The only way you leave the brotherhood is in a body bag."

"That's awful."

"I thought after everything I did for them, I'd be off the hook. I should've known better." he sighed and threw his head back. "I'm so sorry, Felicity."

"Hey," she frowned, "Not everything is on you."

Oliver shrugged.

"So, what do they need me for?"

"They know who's the Green Arrow." Oliver drew in a long breath. "I'm sure they've figured out who's his tech support."

"It's still weird when you talk about yourself in third person." she gave him a small smile which he didn't return.

She could see on his face there was something else he wasn't saying but it wasn't hard to guess where exactly the guy might have wanted her. She shivered at the thought.

"But why don't they just take me? They know all I do is sit behing a computer-"

"Did you or did you not just knock out a guy last night?"

Felicity shot him a pointed look. "I'm just saying, it would be a lot easier to just kidnap me when I sleep or something."

Oliver shook his head. "They can't just ignore the fact I'm still breathing. They offered me an out, and an opportunity to get out of Bratva for something they want. They don't want to go through the trouble to come all the way here."

"Well, then we should take the deal."

"No."

"Oliver," she huffed in frustration, "They only wanted to take me, meaning I'll live which is not something we could say about you. I'll be fine there for a while until you'd figure out a way to get me out. And they'd leave you alone."

"It's my fault they want you in the first place. If I wasn't stupid enough to join the Bratva-"

"It's not like you had much of a choice, right?" Felicity said with raised eyebrows. When was this man going to stop blaming everything on himself? Probably never. "There is no reason for us not to take the deal."

"Except the obvious one where I won't let you go there." he said, "I'll deal with the consequences of my own actions myself."

"Like dying? You'll _deal_ with that?"

"It doesn't matter, Felicity. I brought this on myself. Just drop it."he sighed tiredly and closed his eyes briefly.

Felicity chose to ignore the way Oliver spoke as if his life meant nothing. They'd have plenty of time to discuss that later. "You are incredibly stupid, you know that? Why didn't you tell me this earlier? We could've talked this through."

Oliver looked up at her. "Because I know you, Felicity." he said in a strained voice. "You would've taken the deal. It was a hell on Earth for me over there. I couldn't let them have you. I won't let them damage you, too."

She took a deep breath and looked up to stop herself from tearing up. She understood his fears of her becoming more like him. It hurt her to hear him call himself damaged but there was only so much she could do to help him. That didn't mean she approved him making this choice without her, but she understood why he did so. He knew her almost better than she knew herself. She would've taken the deal. Oliver would gladly die for her if that meant the Bratva left her alone.

"But still, you-"

"And I'm not apologizing for that." Oliver said determinedly. She leaned back and sighed in frustration.

"The guy said something that caught my attention." she begun warily and inspected his face closely. "He said he wasn't Bratva. _Yet_."

Oliver's face paled slightly as he thought back. "He looked too young to- Could he-"

"Oliver, think out loud, please."

"He was a recruit." he said slowly as he came to the terrifying conclusion. "When you join the Bratva, the final test is a mission. I know, because I had one, too. He was on a mission. _I_ am the mission."

"Oh my god," she whispered. "The guy at the city hall was young too. And the one who brought vertigo..."

"They're recruits." Oliver nodded. "They're trying one by one to get the mission done and the one who does, becomes their brother."

"And that's why I have been able to stop that from happening so far." she murmured.

She just knew there had been something off with these attacks. They were too random and regular. And there was no way she would've been able to take on full Bratva members. Now it all made sense. That conclusion somehow made her feel a bit better. At least now they had a lead, something to work on. She could start working on solving this thing.

"What did the shooter at city hall say to you, by the way?" she asked.

Oliver tilted his head slightly to the side in confusion. "When?"

"What do you mean when?", she burrowed her eyebrows, "When you were shot."

"Honestly, I don't remember much." he said and judging from the visible shudder that went through his body, the things he did remember weren't that pleasant. "Just bits and pieces here and there."

Lucky him. She remember every terrifying moment. "Tell me." she squeezed his arm.

"I remember seeing you in that dress," he said quietly, a soft smile on his lips as he played with her wedding ring. He always had that same smile when he talked about her, according to John.

"You were drinking wine, and you were so beautiful I forgot what I was saying", he chuckled to himself and her heart filled with warmth. "Then there's a spot when I don't remember anything at all."

"Then you were shot." she looked down at their joined hands.

"Someone was screaming right next to my ear, that was so annoying."

"Did you know what happened right away?", she asked quietly. She didn't mean to pry but it would do good for Oliver to talk about this right away before he closed off too much.

"That thing where you don't realize you've been shot until you see blood on your hands doesn't really happen, Felicity. You'll now when it happens." Oliver attempted to joke, but she only grimaced.

"Then what?"

"Then you were there." he looked up at her with a sheepish smile. "You were talking but I kinda missed what you were saying, sorry. Then there was the girl, I missed her name too. But you made them stop screaming and I was so thankful for that I would've kissed you if you hadn't been holding me down so hard."

She was well aware he was avoiding the part she was asking for, but she let it go. She wouldn't push it if he wasn't ready.

"You lost a lot of blood."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Felicity." he murmured.

She almost laughed. It was so Oliver to apologize for getting hurt because of her part in the story.

"What do we tell them?", Felicity asked and glanced at Thea and Roy.

Oliver pursed his lips. "The truth."

"The whole truth?" her eyes widened. "You're ready to tell Thea about Russia?"

He hesitated only a moment before replying. "If the Bratva is really in town, she needs to know the risks. I mean, what if they go after Thea? And I think I've hid from her enough already."

"I'm proud of you." she smiled.

"Will you help me tell them?"

"Of course I will." she said and pressed her lips to his.

There could be a dozen new recruits training right now. Told about Oliver. The mission. Someone could barge in that door any second. Any day. For god knew how long. They didn't know if it would eventually stop at all. They could spend rest of their lives - which might not be as long as they originally thought - running away from Bartva and avoiding death until they made one mistake that cost them their lives. They could die tomorrow, next week, in fifty years. They didn't know.

But this guy made a mistake by revealing information. Now Felicity had a lead. A teeny tiny piece of information she could work on. That was something. That was really something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still gonna get worse before it gets better. Don't get your hopes up...  
> Angst is my middle name.


	6. Inner Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd get this out in September, didn't I?  
> Sorry for the delay, but here we are again. Sorry if you notice any typos, I tried to proof-read but I'm tired.
> 
> I'm not that happy with how the first "scene" of this chapter turned out, but I'm proud of the rest of it. I'm excited to post this! So please let me know what you thought. This chapter is full of the feels.  
> Once again this got waaayy out of hand. I got a little carried away. Enjoy and leave a comment? :)

The next few days were slow and uneventful. Or as uneventful as hospitals allowed them to be. The nurses kept checking on Oliver which Felicity was grateful for - Oliver not so much - but in their lives uneventful meant a day when no one was trying to kill them. In those days nobody did. She was suspicious.

It had barely been a week. The first half had three attacks and the latter none. She didn't believe the Bratva had just forgotten about their mission. Silence usually meant they were planning something. So she was suspicious, looking over her shoulder every change she got.

Oliver's pain medication was changed into stronger ones after the attack the other day to _relieve his pain_ , said the doctors. She was sure they did that but higher dosage also knocked him out. He spent his days mostly sleeping and the few minutes he didn't, he stared ahead with a distant look in his eyes. Getting an answer out of him was getting difficult, and the state he was in reminded her terribly of vertigo. 

She may or may have not asked the nurse to check his vitals a couple times a day.

The point was, he seemed worse during those days. Felicity didn't quite understand why he needed stronger medication when he seemed to get along just fine before, but Dr. Ross had said something about his high risk of pneumonia - a lung infection - so she had signed the papers with reluctance.

But it had only been a week, she kept repeating to herself. Oliver was allowed to be sick. Thankfully they had finally lowered the dosage of one of the strongest medications as he had been moved out of the intensive care unit. That meant he wasn't in immediate risk anymore, right?

Now she was sitting in the hospital cafeteria with Roy and Thea, cups of coffee and bagels in front of them. She and Oliver had decided it probably wasn't a smart idea to tell William about Bratva, so the boy had stayed with him while she was supposed to talk to the other two about it. Getting that out of Oliver had taken solid 10 minutes.

"How was Miami?", she found herself asking Thea. Talking about the trip was always a safe option and it would keep her from blurting out the thing she was there to talk to her about.

"Good." Thea smiled. "The beach is within walking distance from our rental so that's nice. And the city is amazing."

"Yeah." she looked down at her feet, at the bright pink fluffy socks the nurse Amy had managed to smuggle from the supply closet for her.

"Where's John?", Roy looked around.

"He left to check on Lyla and JJ, and to bring me and Oliver some clothes, toiletries and all that. I'm dying to change into something more comfortable. I didn't want to leave myself so he offered to drop by our apartment." she replied and sipped her coffee. "He should be back soon."

Thea nodded. "I was starting to wonder if you were going to tell the story behind the scrubs."

"Yeah", she sighed absently. _Nope_.

Her eyes trailed off to the nearby window and the morning sun dazzled her for a moment. It was startling to notice how a new day always came, how the sun always rose. Everyone else's lives kept going when her own seemed to have stopped. 

The reporters' cameras kept flashing outside the windows, and she could still see the pictures of herself on the news. How could someone send those photos to the media? Someone had actually taken the time to take out their phone and snap a photo when the gunman was threatening her at the city hall. Seeing that with her own eyes made her sick.

This hospital had abruptly became her home. It was not homey or warm and it lacked privacy but it was all she got. And if she was honest with herself, she was scared to return home. With the Bratva still out there and Oliver's uncertain mental state, she questioned her own abilities to take care of everything. At least in this hospital Oliver was taken care of and somewhat protected. As much as she missed her own bed, she had to think about Oliver's safety. That had to come first.

For the first time since they arrived through the emergency doors, Felicity let herself think about the world outside these walls. She should call Curtis and talk to him about taking over at Helix for a while, for as long as Oliver needed her and wasn't in immediate danger. She should make a public statement about his condition, so the media would back off and give him time to recover. She should also come up with a solution to the situation that didn't include anyone dying.

"Ollie gave this to me when I was twelve." Thea's words pulled her back from her thoughts and she turned her head back to the younger couple. Thea was running her fingertips over the plain, silver bracelet around her wrist. "I was sad because dad wouldn't take me to the Gambit with him and Ollie so he bought be this to make me feel better. Dad always said he wouldn't let me come because of school but I think it was because neither him or Ollie would've been able to watch me."

An image about a young, twenty-something Oliver going to the store's jewerly section and asking the shop assistant for advice warmed her heart comfortably. The tabloids were probably going crazy about the trip, but Oliver was determined to cheer Thea up regardless. He had always been a great brother to her.

"It's so weird to think back now, you know?" Thea flashed her a small smile, which she returned gladly. "I was lucky to be left home. At the time I was furious, of course, but that decision might've saved my life."

"Oliver Queen, knowing how to woo women since like _always_." she snorted. "Now I know where he got the skill. He had you to practice with."

"Yeah, well..." Thea rolled her eyes and slid her thumb over the tiny plastic stones. "After his... death, I felt closer to him whenever I carried this with me. It gave me strength. I don't know, I guess it helps me now, too. It's stupid."

"I think it's nice to have something to remind you of him." Felicity smiled. "Even when he's not dead."

She and Thea had never been bff's or anything. Sure, they got along perfectly and could rely on each other if needed, but they weren't in the girly we-share-every-little-detail-about-our-sex-lives kinds of terms. So it felt weird to hear Thea open up to her about a possible sore subject. Of course she truly appreciated this newfound trust she apparently found in her, but it didn't mean it wasn't still a little confusing. 

She was also pretty sure Thea wouldn't want to hear about her sex life with her _brother_. 

"What happened the other day?" Thea asked.

Felicity stole a quick glance around her to make sure no one was listening. "It's not my story to tell, really."

"Is that so?", Roy cut in with raised eyebrows. "Because what we heard from Oliver, you basically saved his ass again."

She couldn't help letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Barely."

"But you did," Thea said, "We both know Ollie won't talk about it. And I really need to know these things. He's my brother."

She sighed deeply. She would never even consider saying anything if she didn't have Oliver's permission. "Okay, but you need to promise me you won't make a big deal about what I'm about to tell you. Oliver feels bad enough as it is."

"Sure." Thea answered easily.

"How much do you know about the five years Oliver was away?" she started quietly, observing the younger woman's facial expressions closely.

"Not much. He was stranded on an island and he wasn't alone.." Thea frowned and trailed off before looking up at her with a shocked expression. "Are they still alive, those men who tortured Ollie? Are they here to kill him for good or something?"

Felicity nodded slightly. "Something like that."

"I don't understand." Thea fiddled with the silver bracelet around her wrist.

"He didn't always make good choices," Felicity swallowed hard, "on the island. I don't know that much myself, he doesn't like to talk about it, but trust me when I tell you, these are not people you want to mess with."

"So, what? His past his coming to haunt him or something?" Roy raised his eyebrows. "Again?"

"Yes. Oliver was drugged last week with vertigo by these people and four days ago someone came into his room to try and kill us. I managed to knock them out and call for help but it was close. Too close."

"What?" Thea whispered, a hand raising to cover her mouth. "So, someone's actually targeting him? Who?"

"Have you ever asked Oliver about his tattoos?"

"No," Thea said, "Didn't he get them right before going to the Gambit?"

Felicity pressed her lips together.

"He didn't." the other woman answered for her and leaned back in her chair. "So, there was a tattoo shop on the island or something?" 

It's like ripping off a band-aid, Felicity thought. Straightening on her seat and crossing her legs, she continued. "Oliver wasn't always on the island."

"What do you mean?" Thea inched forward, looking at her expectantly.

"He lied. He's been in Hong Kong, Russia and Star City before he officially returned from the dead." she picked on her nails nervously.

"What- How- Why wouldn't he come back if he got the chance?" Thea stuttered with hurt creeping into her voice. "I thought he was at the bottom of the ocean for five years. We had funerals. He _died_ , Felicity. Mom was crying all the time. And I..." she shook her head. "I had so many issues no one knew what to do with me.  But he was hanging out in China and getting tattoos?"

"He didn't have a choice." Felicity said a little more forcefully, feeling the need to defend him. "He was tortured, manipulated and blackmailed. He said in those five years nothing good happened."

"Then what was he doing in Star City? When was that?"

She could feel incipient frustration building up. "You have to understand he wasn't on a vacation, Thea."

" _When?_ " the younger woman said between gritted teeth.

Felicity sighed. "Sometime during his third year away."

Thea leaned back and let out a bemused laugh. "And what was he doing here?"

Felicity and Oliver hadn't discussed about telling Thea about Hong Kong too, but she couldn't just shut her out now. Not when she had already revealed as much as she had.  
"He was working for Amanda Waller at A.R.G.U.S and they needed to get access to Queen Consolidated's files. Oliver was the only one who could log in the computers."

"Wait-" Thea held her hands up. "Ollie was inside the building? Anyone could've walked in!"

"Yeah, they could've." she murmured, remembering that day well.

Thea looked away with sadness clouding her features. "He was right there the whole time. Why would he work for A.R.G.U.S instead of coming home? I don't understand."

"Waller left him no choice." she brought her coffee back to her lips, taking a small sip even though she had already lost her appetite. The coffee burned her tongue and left a bitter taste in her mouth. "He told me he tried to contact someone at first when he was in China but every time he was forcefully taken away whenever he got close."

"Tommy went to China to look for him." Thea suddenly sat up as recognition dawned on her face. "He said someone had logged into his email account. That was actually Ollie?"

Felicity nodded. "He stopped trying after awhile. Waller threatened to kill anyone who knew Oliver Queen was alive."

"But..." Thea still looked confused. Lowering her voice, she shook her head. "He's the Green Arrow. I'm sure he could've sneaked out quietly and told someone who he was. It doesn't make sense."

She took a deep breath. Thea's questioning was getting frustrating since they were nowhere near the actual subject she needed to talk to the younger woman about and she didn't want to be the one to reveal all Oliver's secrets. Those were his stories to tell. Not hers.

"They used him, Thea." she rubbed her temples. "They forced him into their personal weapon. He was blackmailed to do missions for them. For Waller. He couldn't risk anyone he loves getting hurt. Tommy almost got killed because he had _a suspicion_. The only reason he didn't is because Oliver managed to get them to back off. What do you think Waller would've done if someone actually could confirm he was in fact alive?"

Thea looked down at their feet in guilt. "Sorry."

"It's okay." she shook her head and offered her a small genuine smile. "You just have to know that he tried."

Roy had been quietly observing the conversation between the two until he finally cleared his throat, starling both women. "That doesn't explain his tattoos, Felicity."

"Yes, let's get to the point." Felicity clapped her hands together. "He got those from Russia. Or not all of them but the one that matters. This is what I was supposed to talk to you about but I got a little sidetracked."

"What does a tattoo have to do with these attacks?" 

"Not the tattoo itself, really. More like what it represents." she explained. "You know the star tattoo on his chest?"

Both nodded.

"Of course you do. Why do I ask?" she chuckled nervously. Wow, telling this turned out to be harder than expected. 

Thea and Roy stared at her and waited for an explanation.

"So?" Thea prompted.

"Okay, so long story short." she fiddled with the cap of her mug. "Oliver is the captain of a Russian crime organization called Bratva."

Thea's hand froze mid-air as she was brushing her hair back and Roy's head snapped up at her. White noise filled Felicity's ears as she stared the other two, not even trying to follow up before they had recovered. Hearing about your brother being a Bratva captain? A lot to digest.

"It all started on Lian Yu." _Like everything else, that damn island,_ she added in her mind, "Oliver saved someone over there and turns out he was one of the highest members of the said organization. He took Oliver with him back to Russia, where he was tested and eventually became a part of them."

The younger woman took a deep, uneven breath and Felicity pretended not to notice the way her hands shook as she slid them under the table.

"Every new recruit foregoes the same treatment. They get a mission and if they succeed, they become a member of the Bratva. I'm not sure about the details but apparently that's what happening right now." she explained, worried about the way Thea seemed to have turned white. "Your brother's the mission. Eliminate him and boom," she shrugged, "You're Bratva."

Another tense silence stretched between the three. Thea fidgeted with her bracelet again, not meeting her eyes and Felicity immediately felt guilt pooling in the pit of her stomach.

"Thea-"

"I'm sorry, I-" Thea abruptly stood up, gathering her things quickly in her arms. "I- I need some air. I'm s-sorry. I need air."

"Hey," Roy frowned at her and took a hold of her arm to stop her but she wrenched herself free a bit too forcefully.

"I need some air." Thea repeated louder and searched for the exit with bright, glistening eyes. She was going to flee away from them. 

Various reasons why Thea was reacting the way she was ran through Felicity's mind as she stood up herself. She was being too insensitive. She should've explained everything more clearly. She should've never told them about Bratva.

"Thea, it's alright-" Roy approached her again, but it only made her retreat faster.

"No-", Thea snapped loudly and took a step back. "I need to go."

"I-" Felicity was at loss of words. _I'm sorry. It's okay. I know it's a lot._

Any of those fleeting thoughts didn't quite stick with her so she ended up opening and closing her mouth a couple of times until the other woman had already left.

She glanced down at the round table where three coffees and three bagels sat almost completely untouched. Thea's silver bracelet rested neatly next to her cup, the morning sun shining back from the diamonds.

* * *

  
By the time Felicity and Roy returned to Oliver's room, Diggle had came back to the hospital with a duffel bag full of clothes and other supplies. He met with them in front of Oliver's room's closed door to avoid waking him up in case he was asleep like he had been when they had left together a few hours earlier. Felicity had made sure to leave a post-it note about their whereabouts nonetheless. Oliver would've wanted to know where she was.

She could feel the beginning of a migraine throbbing on her temples as they made their way back into the ICU. Oliver would have questions. Why wasn't Thea with them, how did the talk go, what did Thea say. Only the problem was, she didn't know how to answer those. 

"Everything back home was alright," John smiled tightly, "No signs of breaking and entering."

Felicity nodded. She trusted John's trained eye to notice if anything was out of place. If John said everything was alright, she had no reason to doubt that.

But that could also mean the Bratva were all well aware of their whereabouts so they didn't need to crash into their home. They knew no one would be there.

"Don't worry, Felicity." Roy clasped a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure it'll be over soon and we can all return to normal."

"Sure." she sighed. She doubted that but decided not to voice her thoughts. Roy didn't look too convinced either. "Where's William?"

"I gave him a few bucks to get something from the vending machine." John shrugged. "He looked like he needed a break."

Felicity sent him a quick smile. She loved William but right now she didn't have the energy to stay strong for the boy. "Thanks." she said as she pushed the door open.

A surprise was waiting for them in Oliver's room.

"There you go, Mr. Queen. You're almost there." a young physical therapist praised as he held Oliver's arm tightly in his grip.

Felicity stared with wide eyes. Oliver was standing. He was _standing_. He got shot four times only a week ago and there he was, out of bed. He was standing, like it was any other time of the day. Or well, not quite. He had his hands cupped over the guy's shoulders - Mark, said the name tag - and they stood face-to-face like a pair who were ready to dance. 

"What's going on?" she heard herself asking in wonder. Oliver's arms were loose, his body mostly straight and his grip didn't look like he was holding on for dear life. His hands shook, but that could mean a number of things. The point was, he was standing on his own. The physical therapist only offered him a little extra balance.

"That's _good!_ " Mark continued and glanced at her, acknowledging her presence. "That's very good, Mr. Queen. Would you want to walk over to the chair over there and maybe sit down for a while?"

Oliver's foot moved. Only and inch before he stopped. He bowed his head, the sunlight caught his profile and highlighted the greasy locks of dark blonde hair. "I'm a little woozy." he said quietly.

Felicity shot John and Roy a look, and both men excused themselves from the room as quietly as they had entered.

"I can only imagine." Mark agreed. "Take it slow. I got you, Mr. Queen. You won't fall."

"Oliver." he wheezed through gritted teeth.

Mark frowned. "Excuse me?"

"It's just Oliver." he mumbled, something close to shame in his voice. Felicity's chest ached.

"You're doing great, Oliver." Mark nodded.

In the bald daylight, he looked deadly pale. She couldn't remember if he looked like that before this little exercise but it didn't matter. His face had no color, an unhealthy contrast with the physical therapist's dark tan. Dark circles of exhaustion had formed under his eyes and his usual short stubble had grown to a messy ten-day scruff. 

He looked thinner, too. Due to his excellent physical shape, the difference was barely noticable from outsider's point of view but she had been watching him for almost seven years. She could see the slight weight loss. Even when he looked ridicilously big standing next to the lean, shorter man.

But he was standing nonetheless. Felicity forced herself to cross her arms and not to interfere.

Oliver swallowed thickly. He moved away from Mark and leaned on the IV pole instead, pulling it closer to his body. Uncertainty shone from his eyes but he moved his foot again, this time managing to take a tiny step towards the chair.

Mark stood close by in case he lost his balance or needed extra support, but turned his attention to Felicity. "Good morning, Mrs. Queen. I'm Mark, the physical therapist assigned to your husband's case. Although," he glanced back at Oliver, "his process is looking great so far. Hopefully we won't be seeing each other that much in the future. No offence."

"None taken." she smiled.

"Anyway, the new hospital protocol is to get the patient up and about as fast as possible." Mark answered her earlier question. "Studies has shown that patients who walked at least two times a day within a week from open-heart surgery, recovered far more quickly than patients who didn't."

Felicity looked at Oliver's wobbly feet. "You're not pushing too much too soon, right?"

"I assure you, Mrs. Queen, this is the best thing for him right now." Mark smiled over-enthusiastically. "He's in _excellent_ physical health, which is a major advantage. I'm sure he'll be out running around or whatever he does to keep in shape in no time."

"You have no idea." she smirked.

Oliver's strides were slow and unsure, like an old man forced to walk without a cane or a walker, but he made it to the chair in the far corner without any further assistance. He placed the arm currently available across his chest and leaned down slowly, collapsing as soon as his fingers gripped the solid armrest.

He sank against the soft cushions, breath coming in short gasps, his eyes shut against the blinding sunlight. "Oh I don't want to do that again for a while."

"That's alright." Mark assured, "I'll be here when you're ready to head back. Are you feeling any pain or discomfort?"

"I'll live." Oliver wiped a shaky hand over his eyes. "I just need..." he trailed off.

Mark nodded. "Sitting up is great for your back. We should get you back to bed in a few hours, though. Then we'll try this again in the afternoon."

Oliver rested his head back, probably already dreading doing this ever again.

"You did great, Oliver." she stepped forward.

He looked at her, eyes flaring wide with surprise like he hadn't noticed she was there. "F'licity.. I didn't-" his voice faded, shivering. His eyelids drooped again, and he glanced down at the floor. A small sound rumbled deep in his throat and when he looked up again, he seemed barely conscious. "What-", he muttered, gaze going around the room in confusion.

"Thea, Roy and John are outside." she lied. "They decided to give you some time to rest. William's getting something to eat."

Oliver blinked. "Okay," he said his voice deep and weary.

"Maybe he should go back to bed now, after all." Mark thought aloud. "I didn't think he'd get so tired."

Felicity bit her lip. "Can't you let him rest there for a while? I'll watch him."

Mark thought about that for a moment but eventually just shrugged and left after making her promise to page him when he wanted to get back to bed.

For the first time in hours, she was greeted with utter silence. She heard vague noises of a hospital outside the door, but they were distant, only soft echoes. Tension on her shoulders slowly melted away she hadn't realized had been there. She walked over to the chair where Oliver sitting in and dropped down on her knees in front him with a sigh.

She spread her hand on his thigh, the rough fabric of the hospital gown under her fingertips. Apart from the IV stuck on the bend of his arm, he was free from surgical drains. No EKG lines, no catheter. Even the nasal cannula giving him extra oxygen was sitting by the bed. This was just him, sitting by himself on this chair after a week of laying down mostly asleep.

"Hey" she whispered. "I missed you."

The gown rustled when Oliver shifted, the sound loud in the quiet. He looked at her, eyes full of exhaustion, maybe even pain, but he didn't speak. The sun glowed brightly and Felicity made a mental note to close the blinds. Oliver blinked, looked back down and closed his eyes.

"I walked." he said.

"I know." she said.

"I'm tired."

"I know." she repeated. She rubbed the rough skin of his palm, "You did great."

Oliver's breathing started slowly to even out. She reached up and touched his face, stroking a thumb over his cheek. He leaned against her palm.

She considered waking him up so he could try getting back to bed and avoid having a stiff back for the rest of the day for sleeping in a bad position, but couldn't bring herself to bother him. Sleep was the only way for him to completely let go these days, and thankfully the pills helped with that. He could get up later.

She shifted, leaning her back against the side of the chair and rested her cheek on his knee. She could almost imagine they were back home where everything was nice and safe.

She let her mind drift, her own exhaustion quickly growing until keeping her eyes open felt like an impossible task. So she didn't.

Felicity didn't mean to fall asleep, but somehow along the way she did. 

She woke only an hour later, but it took some time for her to fully regain consciousness. She hadn't slept in a real bed in days so during any quiet moment she had to fight to stay awake. 

Oliver's leg twitched under her head, and Felicity quickly squirmed up from the floor when she thought she was hurting him. She wished she hadn't gotten to the floor to begin with, but there wasn't much she could do about it at this point. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, pulling her hair back from her face and took a closer look at her husband. 

Oliver looked disorientated, slowly blinking up at her. "I need to get up."

"Okay," she yawned. Her skin started to tingle as pins and needles jabbed her up and down her left leg, and she resisted the urge to sit back down. "Ready to get back to bed?"

"No, I mean..." his face wrinkled in concentration. "I need to get up." His hands wandered to take a hold of the IV pole, and he rose to his feet without waiting for her to assist or anything. His body leaned forward, doubling over as he let out a surprised gasp.

"Oliver," she hissed as she dove forward to catch him before he could fall. She grabbed his shoulders, moving her body in front of him as they both nearly stumbled down in a pile before she managed to straighten him back up. "What a hell are you doing?"

"Little dizzy." he breathed in her ear in a faint voice, his hands slipping around her waist.

"You think?" she snorted. "Oliver, you're on like ten different kinds of narcotics right now. It's kind of a miracle you're even standing."

He turned and took a step towards the bathroom - thank god he had a private one- and dragged the IV pole closely next to him. Her muscles burned with energy as she continued to hold him, both of them wobbling like a drunk couple. Her arm went under his armpit and Oliver leaned on her even more. God, he was heavy. She grabbed his waist, not even caring if he wanted the help or not. He stopped in the middle of the room, closed his eyes and let out a sound that could've been a laugh as well as a sob. Her heart broke.

"Okay, a lot dizzy." he admitted.

She patted the flat of his stomach gently. "i've got you, big guy. Just lean on me."

They stood there for a while, Oliver attempting to catch his breath and Felicity trying to come up with a plan. She was small, she knew that. She wouldn't be able to do something as significant as carry him to the toilet if his legs were to give out, but she could help. That was the least she could do in this situation.

"Okay?" she said.

"Yeah, okay."

He took another step, then another, until he could wrap his fingers around the doorframe. They entered the bathroom with his IV in tow, her arm still supporting him. Oliver stopped in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection probably for the first time since the shooting. A small sound escaped his throat as his hand rose to touch his face, his hair, everything, watching as the stranger staring back at him did the same.

"John brought you some clothes from home, Oliver." she stroked his bicep up and down. "We'll get you a razor and a toothbrush. There's some sweatpants and t-shirts you could change into when you feel up to it."

His face twisted slightly, lips trembling before he rolled them in his mouth. A look of hatred passed on his face before disappearing. "F'licity", he said, his voice soft and lost.

"I know." she mumbled and leaned on her toes to press her lips to his cheek. He closed his eyes. "It's gonna be alright. We'll fix it."

After a moment they turned away again, towards the toilet, and Felicity could feel herself turning red. "Oliver, are you... Umm... Are you okay to- I mean- By yourself..." Oliver shifted, facing away in shame which made her feel horrible, but he didn't answer right away either, which made her feel even worse. She rubbed his arm. "Look, I'll go get you more comfortable clothes and some other toiletries. I'll be right outside if you need anything. And I mean it. _Anything_ , Oliver. Just call and I'll come right back."

"Okay." he simply agreed.

She left the door a bit ajar on her way out, just in case. She spotted the dark duffel bag near the door where Dig had left it and began to rummage through it. She found Oliver's light gray hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, but couldn't see his razor anywhere. Good thing these private hospital rooms came with spare toothbrushes, though.

A thump sounded behind her, followed with a muffled "son of a bitch", his voice low and filled with pain. Felicity stilled, listening to any further signs of distress, but didn't hear any. She wanted to go back and make sure he was alright, but he didn't ask for help and the sound hadn't been loud enough to mean he'd fallen or something. After another, quieter curse and a stretched silence, she could hear the steady ripple of liquid.

She sighed in relief. All right, then.

One worry at a time. As for right now, her next concern was to get him to change his clothes and possibly walk him back to the bed. He wasn't a fan of a stranger helping him or touching him. They could avoid that for now.

She needed Thea to come back and fast - wherever she fled to, anyway - because as soon as Oliver was done, he'd be asking about her again and she was the worst liar.

Her eyes caught the plastic bag under Oliver's bed, where the screen of his smartphone was lit up. It was kind of a miracle how it still got power in it, but that wasn't what made her dig the device out. Someone was calling him. The phone buzzed in her palm as she squinted at the display. Unknown number.

A horrible thought came to her mind, and before she even realized what she was doing, the phone was splintered on the ground.

A phone call was a way to track locations. She was not taking any risks.

Grabbing the clothes, she went over to the door and knocked softly just as the toilet flushed. "Oliver, I'm going to come in unless you say something."

He said nothing.

She pushed the door open and found him sitting on the ground, legs bend and arms resting on top of his knees. "My chest hurts." he said quietly as if to explain why she was finding him of all people in that position.

She kneeled in front of him, placing her own hands on his. "Did you fall?" she asked, immediately feeling incredibly guilty for not being there to help him. "I heard a sound."

Oliver shook his head, every movement screaming exhaustion but he looked up at her anyway. His eyes were watery, glistening with unshed tears. "I can't get up."

"I'll help you." she squeezed his arm and gave him a smile that hopefully was reassuring, or at least it was supposed to be. "You don't have to do this alone. I'll help you. No biggie."

"My chest hurts," he repeated slowly, nearly slurring his words, "When I try to push myself up. I can't get up. I can't do it."

She knew what the underlying problem was. He was used to being able to do these things. He was used to being in control. As for right now, he wasn't in control at all. He couldn't control his recovery. He couldn't control Bratva. Hell, he couldn't even control his own body.

She rubbed his arm. "I brought you a clean towel and some clothes."

"Is this your not so subtle hint?" he asked.

She sighed.

At this point, a week inside this place, him taking a shower wasn't really about him being clean. At least not in a sense that usually mattered. It was something she knew he needed to regain some normalcy. Maybe it was more about him _feeling_ clean.

The nurses had been giving him sponge bathes, sure, but it wasn't the same when someone else was washing him. She hadn't been there, just to give him some privacy, but she could only imagine how embarassing Oliver must find the whole situation. So she thought it would be a little better if she was the one doing the washing. Surely the hospital would allow that, right?

"Oliver, it's not a hint," she said helplessly, "It isn't anything. I just thought you'd want to take a real shower by yourself for change. Unless you want to wait for a nurse to do it instead. Do whatever you want."

"Admit it," Oliver murmured, "You think i'm disgusting."

Felicity opened her mouth to reply, but when she saw his eyes, a bit crinkled in the corners, and the loopsided grin on his face, she let out a chuckle instead. Teasing. He was just teasing. She had almost forgotten he used to tease her all the time. How could she forget that? Had it really been that bad?

_Yes, it had._

"Or maybe you're just trying to catch me naked and vulnerable." he shrugged but she could see how happy with himself he was for making her laugh.

"Oh yeah," she grinned, clasping his hands in hers, "I have a thing for men in hospital gowns. I lure them in shady hospital bathrooms and wait until they're naked and vulnerable."

Oliver blinked at her, huffing out a small laugh but immediately regretting it as he winced in pain. "I learn new things about you every day. You like men in pain." he said.

She shrugged. "It must be a remnant of a childhood trauma or something. Let's blame that on my dad, too."

Oliver smiled tiredly. It was contagious.

He stood, with her doing most of the work since he wasn't supposed to be pushing or pulling or lifting anything right now, and he reached for her to steady himself. His hands shook as he raised a hand to wipe his eyes. "I'm really tired."

Felicity nodded. "The shower can wait. Let's get you back to bed."

"No," he closed his eyes and swallowed, "I want to shower."

"Are you still dizzy?" she countered with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but I'm okay."

"No, you're not." she mumbled, hating herself a bit when Oliver looked at her in confusion. "You're not. You can't go to the bathroom on your own and you shouldn't pretend that you can." she said gently, rubbing the length of his arm. "I'm sorry. You can take a shower later, okay?"

Oliver looked down, swallowing a few times.

"Can I change my clothes?"

She watched him carefully. What kind of question was that? Since when did he ask for her permission to do something?

"You can do whatever you want, Oliver." she said softly. Telling him that was even more important than she originally thought. The worst scenario was that he thought she was trying to control him. Which she wasn't. She glanced at the clothes she'd dropped on the floor and the gray hoodie sounded better and better. "Do you want to put on something warm? It's kinda chilly in here."

"Yeah, warm is good." he mumbled.

"Okay." she said, squeezing his arm slightly. "We can do that."

Picking up the loose sweatpants first, she turned to close the bathroom door in case a nurse decided to walk in while he was changing. Getting him to put on the pants was a good place to start. That way in case he got tired of standing, they'd go back to bed after that and change the hoodie there. Yeah, it was a good plan.

"Can you stand?" she asked and started to loosen her grip on his arm little by little, eyeing warily the way his legs shook before stilling. 

"Yeah, just gimme a minute." he gritted his teeth. 

Felicity smiled reassuringly. "There's no hurry."

He placed both of his hands on her shoulders, the same way he'd done with the physical therapist. Swaying only a little, he gave her a tight smile and nodded.

She grabbed the black boxer briefs first, holding them as he shifted his weight on his other leg, lifting the other off the floor a few inches. The light hospital gown allowed her to easily slide the underwear up his leg. His fingers dug into her shoulders, not too painfully since he was still being careful with her, but enough to keep him in balance as he lifted the other leg.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this." Oliver said quietly when they both straightened up again, locking his eyes with hers. 

The truth was, she had been nervous about this part of the recovery. Oliver had changed her multiple times back when she got paralyzed, and it had been embarassing at first, so she had thought that would be the case now too. But now, actually being in this position, and judging from the honest trust in Oliver's eyes, they had nothing to worry about. Apparently their relationship had come to the point where changing one another when they were incapable themselves, was okay. 

"You'd do the same for me." she said, knowing it was true. "Actually you did, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah." he said softly. "I love you."

This time she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, closing her eyes. "I love you, too."

Putting on pants turned out to be a bit more complicated than either of them anticipated. In the end of it, they were both panting. He from pure exhaustion and she from holding him up when he almost fell a couple of times. 

"You okay?" she checked worriedly when he'd been quiet for quite some time.

He sighed, raising a hand to lean against her a little. His head barely moved in a small nod. She almost missed it.

She tied the strings around his hips, tight enough to hold the pants up but still loose, so he'd be comfortable lying down. She was careful, but still his balance faltered.

"Are you sure?" she bit her lip. She hated to ask the same question again and again but he was looking a little too pale for her liking. And this would not end well if he fell.

"The room is a little fuzzy." he said in a low voice. Almost scarily low, like he was about to faint.

"Do you need to sit?" 

"No, I'll..." he closed his eyes and turned his head down.

If Oliver was admitting the room was a little fuzzy, it meant it was actually _a lot_ fuzzy. 

"Okay, we're going back to bed." she decided when he didn't continue the sentence. She took the hoodie and draped it over her shoulder, sliding an arm around Oliver's waist for support as she began to pull him with her.

_Don't fall. Please don't fall. This was a stupid idea._

"Just a few more minutes, Oliver. Then you can go to sleep."

He was now very unstable on his feet, every step deliberate and slow. She did her best to keep him upright but despite her support, she could see he was in pain. A quick glance to his face almost made her page Dr. Ross right then and there. He stared at the bed dully, breathing hard, eyes looking glassy. At one point his head his face dropped forward, either because he was concentrating on his feet or he just simply didn't have the energy to hold his head up. 

Finally she got him to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked only semi-awake at this point, but she took a hold of his shoulder and shook him gently. "Hey, you still with me?"

His head rolled up. A nod.

"We should get the hoodie on. I'm sure it's more comfortable than this flimsy thing." she said, gesturing at his clothing.

She didn't wait for his answer, which may never come. Walking around the bed, she untied the knot at the back of his neck where the two ends of the gown came together. It peeled off his clamsy skin easily, which had covered with cold sweat during their little trip to the bathroom. His bare chest was on display once more, but either Oliver didn't care about the fact or he just didn't say anything. 

She eyed the bandages around his torso. She didn't want to touch them. She didn't, but now they were all soggy and red, and they probably needed to be replaced. Pulling the hoodie over them would only stain the light garment and then she'd need to ask John to bring him another one. She scraped the corner of the bandage in the middle of his chest, where the incision was, and found that the blood had rotten away the sticky thing holding it against his skin. They were definitely done for.

"I'm going to page a nurse." she informed him, pushing the small, white button near the bed. It made no sound but she knew the nurses' station got the message. "I'm sorry, but your bandages need to be replaced. I know you don't like it."

Oliver opened his eyes. They were still distant and tired, but brighter, like the two-minute nap he just had actually helped. He looked down at himself, noting the red-stained gauze, and his forehead creased in a frown.

"Am I bleeding?" he said, clear confusion evident on his face and not for the first time she really wanted to punch that russian guy in the face even though he was already dead. His hand raised to his chest, fingers hovering over the bandage but not quite touching. 

"Not anymore, no." she poked lightly the corner she'd already picked. It was still damp but not soaking wet. He'd been bleeding at some point. Maybe during that weird thump in the bathroom, whatever he'd been doing at the time. "At least I don't think so. I'm no doctor."

"Then it's a good thing I'm here, right?" a bright voice called behind her, and she turned her head to look at the newcomer.

"Amy," she said aloud.

"Wow!" Amy stepped inside, wide smile forming on her lips as she eyed Oliver. "You look _great_ , Mr. Queen! Look at you, sitting up and all."

Oliver looked away, a weird look crossing on his face which she recognized as discomfort.

"I think his bandages need changing." Felicity said and Amy turned her attention to her. She nodded, taking a step forward, and Felicity went to sit next to Oliver on the bed.

Oliver stiffened when Amy extended a hand towards him. Now, not so drugged, he was aware of every stranger coming in and touching him. His chest was covered in cuts and bruises, as well as all the old scars from his five years away and from the recent years as the Green Arrow. Malcolm Merlyn, Slade Wilson, Ra's Al Ghul, Damien Darhk, Adrian Chase, Ricardo Diaz. The list went on. They had all left their mark on him.

Amy paused. "May I?" she said softly, only continuing when Oliver gave her a small nod. Felicity's respect to the woman grew instantly. She knew how to handle patients with acute PTSD.

Felicity took a breath. "Our friend - John - brought him some clothes to change into. I don't know if I hurt him, or..."

"You didn't." Oliver said.

The nurse begun to peel the bandage off gently. The bottom of it was easy since it was still wet, but when she got to the upper half, she paused. "The incision has started to scab over. The dressing is a little stuck at the moment, but it's nothing we couldn't handle." she smiled at the pair. 

Felicity took a hold of Oliver's bicep and wrapped her arms around it, like she was hugging a pillow. Her chin rested on his shoulder, the only place she felt comfortable touching at the moment. She eyed the way Amy dampened the gauze with some liquid in a syringe and tried to remember every step she took, how she dabbed the skin around the dressing, the way she waited patiently for the bandage to soak before starting to pull it off. This time it peeled off with little reluctance.

When Amy turned away to put away the supplies, Oliver's shoulders slumped in relief. He let out a shivering breath and swallowed. Felicity rubbed his arm.

"I'm going to clean the wound," Amy warned, wetting a clean, white fabric with disinfectant. "It's gonna hurt. I'll try to be quick."

Oliver sighed. "That's fine."

Amy pressed the fabric on the incision, causing him to gasp. She continued rubbing his arm up and down, and mumbling soft words to his ear while Amy worked as fast as she could. Felicity saw tears glistening in his eyes.

He breathed evenly in and out, a learned and mastered skill which probably had kept him alive before, even when this pain was nothing compared to being tortured. His old habit awoke anyway. And the fact that he was in pain to begin with still broke her heart.

Not for the first time that week, she thought about Oliver's other scars. The smooth, pink lines on his shoulders and arms and the bigger, rougher marks on his chest and back. He's told her he's been tortured. He's said for some of them he was conscious enough to remember every second of the pure agony he felt at those moments and for some of them he's got no clue where he got them from. All he knew was that none of them were self-inflicted.

But one thing he's never told her is _what_ exactly were they made with. Blades? Bullets? _Bare hands?_ She wasn't sure if she even wanted to know the gory details. 

How did getting shot feel compared to being tortured? She knew he had a high pain threshold. He had to, or he wouldn't have survived so much in his life. But was it comparable? Could he _always_ feel more pain or was there a line somewhere? Did he think _oh look, I've been shot. It's not so bad, though. That sword through the chest was worse._

"My mom called." she blurted to stop the disturbing train of thought.

Oliver put a hand on her knee, a move that felt weirdly unexpected. He used to be the first to seek physical contact with her, but in these last few days she had always been the one to approach him. It felt nice. Then she caught his eyes, blinking like if he did it fast enough, his gaze wouldn't be blurry, and he wouldn't be upset or on the verge of falling apart. She knew him. She knew he was trying to show her he was trying be okay, and it wasn't working. It wasn't working at all.

"How is she?" he asked anyway. He sounded distant, small, and she knew her answer didn't really matter. He was too focused on keeping it together. 

But nothing good would come out of pointing that out right then. Not with Amy still present, literally a feet away, hovering over his bare, scarred chest. She was one of the reasons why he felt so anxious, anyway.

"She's good." she said, "She wanted to talk to you but I told her you were unavailable."

Oliver stared at a point on a wall. "Sorry."

"Hey," she said quietly and turned her body fully towards him, rubbing his arm gently. "My mom can wait. All that matters is that you're alive. All I want is you to be breathing, and healthy, and okay."

He glanced at her, face desolate. Something in his eyes broke, something dark and upsetting. He blinked. "I am breathing." he said almost as if he was trying to convince himself rather than her.

He left it at that. A sick feeling washed over her, along with a new wave of hatred towards Bratva and anyone who had ever touched him.

She sniffled. "I know." 

Amy cleared her throat. "So, I'm all done here for now." Putting away the dirty bandages, she grabbed Oliver's gray hoodie from the bed. "You want me to help you dress or-"

"No." Oliver said.

The nurse rolled her lips to her mouth. Felicity moved her eyes from her husband's lost ones to her, sending her an apologetic look. "We'll be fine, thank you." she said, patting Oliver's shoulder lightly.

"Okay," she smiled and took a hesitant step back. "Just call me if you need anything."

Felicity nodded. "We'll do."

Once the other woman had left, she could feel Oliver's shoulders relaxing bit by bit but never loosening completely. For a long time she remained sitting next to him, quietly stroking his arm, shoulder and back. She massaged the palm of his hand, feeling the rough skin and the hard calluses he'd gotten from using the bow. He kept quiet, never moving, and she actually checked if he was still breathing. 

"Hey, dad?" William's head suddenly peeked from the creaked door, loud noises filling the room and she immediately felt how Oliver's whole body stiffened once again. 

The scars.

"Oliver?" she asked softly, touching his face. His eyes were glued to William. "It's just William. Everything's alright."

"Is he up yet?" someone yelled from the hallway and William turned his head to yell something back. 

And Oliver _flinched._

"You look better," William spoke as he approached them with light steps, unaware of his father's mental state.

Oliver didn't react to her quickly grabbing the shirt, rolling it up his arms and over his head. But she was sure he appreciated it. The hoodie was warm and soft and his, and he wouldn't want his son to see his bare chest.

William put a hand inside his pocket and the muscles on Oliver's arm tensed. Like he was ready to fight. Logically she knew he wouldn't attack his own son, not on purpose anyway, but if he was stuck in a flashback or on a verge of a panic attack, there was always a risk. William opened his mouth. "I was thinking that-"

"Will, could you go grab me a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, please?" she said quickly, squeezing Oliver's arm a bit too tightly, maybe to make sure he would stay put.

The fact that Oliver was managing to keep his entire body completely still except his hands which were trembling, fingers twitching and rubbing together in a nervous manner, was enough to tell her he _really_ didn't want to break down in front of William. His distress was going unnoticed by the boy, so she needed to get him to back off.

He frowned. "But John said-"

" _Now_ , William!" she hissed, looking pointedly at Oliver before glancing at the exit. She felt bad for telling him off so harshly, but she needed him to leave like right now. William followed her gaze, stopped on his tracks and took a closer look at Oliver. A guilty look formed on his face.

"I'm sorry, dad." he mumbled before hurrying out of the room and vanishing behind a corner.

The moment the teenager was gone, she turned her attention to Oliver, trying to seem as unintimidating as possible. Her hands hadn't left his body the entire time she and William spoke and he didn't seem to mind, so she didn't pull back now. Instead, she slid her fingers through his hair, to his face and the scruff on his jaw.

"Take a deep breath." she adviced softly.

Oliver's eyes rose up from where he'd been staring at his shaking hands to gaze at her, and the wilderness in them worried her.

"I can't." he said his voice hoarse, sounding a bit choked. He was hyperventalating in panic.

"Okay," she whispered to herself, biting her lip as she considered the situation. "Okay, that's... That's okay, Oliver. You're breathing. You're okay. You said it yourself. You're breathing."

There was a silent pause, where only his erratic breathing could be heard, and then a low, heart-wrenching sound escaped his throat. He clentched his teeth, fingers wrapping around the edge of the bed tightly until his knuckles were white as he closed his eyes. 

"Just breathe, Oliver." she mumbled, rubbing his back up and down slowly. "You know this is only temporary. You felt better a while ago. It will pass. Just breathe. You've done this countless times before. You know you'll survive."

Why was the universe throwing all this to him? He didn't deserve to feel this much misery and pain. He'd already had plenty for a couple lifetimes, and he just continued to get more. Why did some people live their entire lives happily ever after when others barely had any good years? Who was responsible for that? Despite being jewish, Felicity wasn't especially religious but times like these really made her think. What did this amazing, gentle and caring man who loved so deeply, do to deserve all this?

Oliver rubbed his forefinger and thumb together, chest rising and falling unevenly. "Felicity," he whimpered quietly.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I know, baby. I know it sucks. You're doing great, Oliver, just keep breathing. You're safe. I promise, you're safe."

"Did-" he drew in a quick, panicky breath, "Did he- Did William see- I don't want-" he chocked on his words, his face twisting with emotion. "I don't want him to see-"

"He didn't." she assured, fear bubbling inside her. Not because she was scared of Oliver, which she wasn't, but because her calm talking and general support didn't seem to be working like they usually did. _Why wasn't it working?_

Blinking back her tears, she bit her lip. She needed to gain control of her emotions. She was no use to Oliver if she was a crying mess herself. She wanted to hold him, comfort him, do whatever it took until he felt safe, because she loved him more than anything and hated seeing him like this. She knew holding him was out of the picture for as long as he was in this state of mind, but comfort she had always been able to give him. Well, always until now. If she couldn't do that, she didn't know how to help him.

"Why won't my chest stop hurting?" he mumbled, leaning down, head between his hands.

"It's the surgery and panic you're feeling right now." she managed to choke out, before clearing her throat. "It will pass, I promise."

"Does it?" 

He sounded so unsure.

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek. This wasn't working. Time for a plan B.

"Thea was telling me about Miami earlier." she said, "She and Roy had been staying in this beach house. She was excited to tell you about it herself but I thought I'd warn you before she got started, because those stories are pretty long. It took like forever for me to open my mouth."

Oliver looked at her with relieved look. She was certain he knew what she was trying to do, but he appreciated it anyway. Her husband sighed deeply, his breath hitching halfway through. "And?"

She forced a smile. "She says there's a nice family living right next door. Two small kids. They make a lot of noise but they don't mind. The kids sometimes ask them to come and play with them. I think it's sweet."

Oliver nodded quietly.

"Her stories about them made me think about stuff," she sighed, looking straight ahead in thought. "I think I want that some day. They sound like a nice family, and I mean, I really enjoyed our time in Ivy Town. It was strange, but our lives were strange at the time, you know? I think I could get used to living a peaceful life." she glanced at Oliver, who was looking at her with a weird expression. "Look at Thea and Roy. They're doing it right now."

He continued to stare at her. 

"I mean, I don't think right now is the time to think about these things.." she blushed, feeling strangely self-conscious under his intense gaze. "But you know, just putting it out there."

There was a long pause when neither of them said anything, and she became painfully aware of what she had just basically implied. 

"You don't have to say-"

"Are you serious?" he asked,voice soft. That got her to turn her head back towards him, and his intense blue eyes locked on hers. 

She realized he wasn't scared. He wasn't trying to find a way to avoid this conversation. He was diving head first into it with her, even when the circumstances weren't ideal. She knew what he eventually wanted in life and she had been the unsure one, that much was clear, but she had at least thought the whole situation would cause him to run to the hills for a while before they'd be able to discuss the topic.

"Yeah," she sighed, "I think I am. Of course now is the worst time ever to be even thinking about this. I mean, I have my company and you're the mayor and hurt and there's the whole Bratva thing going on-"

"Do you mean it?" he asked quietly. "You didn't say that just to cheer me up, or..."

"No!" she grabbed his hand, wrapping her fingers around his tightly. "I promise. This is not the first time the thought has crossed my mind." she paused, taking a deep breath. "I think I want kids of our own."

"Yeah?" he whispered, eyes so full of love she couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was that? Fluff?? In this fic??? I must be sick or something.  
> Don't read too much into that last part.. This is not turning into a pregnancy fic or anything, that was purely just about them thinking about moving on in life, especially after this unfortunate event.
> 
> It's still gonna get worse, folks. In my mind they're both still in this "shock" mode, not really thinking about what they'll do when they return to "real life". This is them just dealing with Oliver's immediate recovery. Things are gonna get a lot more complicated once we move forward.


End file.
